The Saga of Marcus Ram
by RorkyPenn
Summary: Gaia came and went without harming Mount Olypmus, leaving behind only the threat of a much larger event. The Olympians and the Seven scrambled to prepare for what will come next. Years later the general consensus was that Gaia will come back centuries later. It's only when a demi-god, Marcus Ram, shows up and Zeus launches a manhunt that the gods realize that Gaia's threat is close
1. Prologue

The Saga of Marcus Ram: Prologue

 _This prologue is intended to replace the events of the Blood of Olympus_

Leo

Strangely enough at a certain point in our trip to the great Mount Olympus nothing attacked us. I'm not speaking figuratively when I say that. We didn't encounter any of Gaia's minions for a decent part of journey inside Greece.

Personally I didn't mind. In fact I found that time to be a bit relaxing. Percy and Jason, not so much. They were convinced that there was an ambush laid out and waiting for us to walk into. All attempts by me to convince them to take it easy were ignored. Instead they doubled their guard. Normally I wouldn't mind that but they managed to drag me into standing guard with them.

Other than that the ride was uneventful. Everyone stuck to themselves and any conversation that normally passed around slowed down to a stop. Not that it mattered to me since Festus was always ready to talk.

Eventually, after a week of easy sailing/flying we reached Athens. Annabeth tried to convince us that Mount Olympus was here because of something to do with the center of power on Greece but it went over our heads. Not that we needed any convincing. A heavy pull in our stomachs told us that we were getting closer to Mount Olympus. I maneuvered the ship to an empty parking lot on the outside of the city and touched down easily.

"Final stop: Athens," I yelled out to the others from my place up at the steering wheel. I pulled a lever and a gangplank unfolded itself from the side the ship to give us an easy way down. I made a few final checks on the Argo II before I followed them down. Once we were all on the ground Festus pulled up the gangplank. "So which way should we head?" I asked.

"Follow your gut," said Percy with a bit of a smile.

"Hey, I'm the witty one in the group," I said, trying to lift everyone's spirits. It didn't really work. The gut feeling tugged us out of the parking lot and onto the streets. It felt like there was a hook in our stomach reeling us in and the further in we followed it the more a sort of buzzing feeling filled us, at least that's what it felt like.

They all split into pairs, Jason with Piper, Percy with Annabeth, and Frank with Hazel, as they walked, leaving me allow at the back of the group. In all honesty I was glad for the silence; it gave me time to think on my own. My first thought went to Calypso and from there to the promise I made on the Styx. Now that I think about it that was a really bad move to make. A seriously bad move. I would have smacked my head if I was a cartoon character and not in the middle of a crowd.

We wandered around the city, heading closer and closer to the center as time passed. It took us a while to find the spot since the buzzing feeling we were getting wasn't very accurate and it didn't point in a certain direction. It also didn't help that the entrance to Mount Olympus was a small doorway that looked like it belonged to a rundown nightclub. We stood around arguing about or not that the small sign in ancient Greek saying "Mount Olympus" was the real deal until I decided to try it out.

At the bottom of the steps sat a bored looking carbon copy of Gerard Butler, leaning back in his chair against the wall. "Is this Mount Olympus?" I asked, not hoping for much.

The guy looked me up and down then stood up, the chair falling back to four legs with a clack. "Since you saw through the mist you're obviously not mortal. Who are you?" He said carefully.

"I'm Leo a demi-god son of Hephaestus," I answered.

"Prove it."

"Prepare to be amazed," I said cracking my fingers. I snapped my fingers and let a small fireball burst in my palm. I was getting pretty good at controlling these so I let it wave around before extinguishing it.

The guy was grinning when I looked up. "Overpowered?" He asked.

"What?"

"Never mind. Are those guys up there with you?"

"Yeah they are," I said. I turned around to face them, "Hey guys come on down, this is the place," I yelled and waved for emphasis. They all looked at me strangely with the Romans looking at me as if I just spoke Japanese. Cautiously they all stepped down the stairs.

"What did you say Leo?" Percy asked, eyeing the guy behind me.

"I said that this guy," I point behind me, "Says that Mount Olympus is through that door."

"But when did you learn to speak ancient Greek?" Annabeth interrupted.

"Ancient Greek?" I asked.

"It's the effect of Mount Olympus," said the guy behind me. "It forces everyone to think and speak in ancient Greek."

"He's right," Jason said slowly, "Everything feels a bit … off."

"Must be worse for you guys since your Roman," Piper said.

"So are all of you looking for Mount Olympus?" asked the guy.

"Yeah," said Percy, taking charge.

"Well I'll first need proof that all of you are demi-gods," said the guy. Percy uncapped his pen/sword. Annabeth put on her invisibility cap. Piper pulled a basket of apples from her cornucopia. Jason created a small lighting cloud in his palm. Hazel pulled out a large ruby from the wall. Frank turned into a small dog and back again to his normal shape. "Seems like all is in order. Let's go." The guy turned to the door and unlocked it using a key he had hidden under his shirt.

The door swung inwards to show a long, dark tunnel large enough for two people to walk side by side without bumping shoulders. He headed down the tunnel quickly and we followed suit, Percy and Jason taking the lead as usual. I brought up the back of the pack again. The walls of the tunnel were made of solid rock and they were surprisingly hot as a touch to them confirmed. Every 20 or so meters a recess in the roof of the tunnel held a small ball of fire which did a decent job of lighting up the tunnel.

After a good twenty minutes of walking the ground started sloping downwards slowly. What was more interesting was that the rocks changed from rough rock sharp enough to slice the sound of someone who wasn't paying attention to a smooth, polished granite like wall. Furthermore the ground underneath us changed from a rough dirt road to a cobbled road. Over all it was a welcome change.

After what felt like an eternity later a faint glow started to come from the far end of the tunnel. "That's the light from Mount Olympus," the guy at the front of the pack called out. "Watch out, your powers are going to go a bit haywire from the power of it leaking over here." He wasn't lying, I felt the fire power inside me trying to burst through. From the rippling of Frank's skin under his skin, the breeze that suddenly picked up, and the puddles of water underneath our feet I guessed that Jason, Percy, and Frank were going through the same thing with a bit less success than me.

They all got their powers under control quickly and thing went back to normal. Except for the light in the tunnel getting brighter. "We're close," the guy said as the ground levelled off. Everyone drew their weapons and gripped them tightly. The group suddenly stopped. "That's as far as I can take you guys. Mount Olympus is just up ahead," the guy at the front said.

"Thanks for showing us the way," I heard Percy say.

"Don't mention it," the guy said, his voice seemed a bit weaker.

Everyone walked past him until I was right in front of him. "What did you mean when you asked if I was overpowered?" I asked him, noticing that he was a bit translucent.

"Hephaestus was my dad just like you and I had the same gift as you. Through some miracle my gift became even stronger."

"Wow. How powerful did you become?" I'm pretty sure my eyes were glowing like a pair of heavy duty headlamps at that point.

He grinned sheepishly. "The soldiers I was leading starting calling the mountain pass we were in the Hot Gates."

"Wait a minute," I said, that name reminding me of a movie I saw. "Are you Leonidas who held off the Persian army with 300 Spartans?"

"We were 298, one broke his leg on the way there and needed someone to help him make the trip back," Leonidas said. "How did you know about that?"

"They made a movie about you and now that I think about it you look exactly like the guy who played you in the movie."

"Hmm, I guess that explains why some people would look at me when I was taking a walk."

I started to speak but someone from further down the tunnel yelled out to me. "Looks like I have to go," I said, looking at his fading frame.

"Go, hopefully we'll meet in Elysium," Leonidas said, nodding in the direction of the rest of the group.

"See you then." I said and headed off down the tunnel in a light job. I crossed the distance quickly to find the group waiting at the mouth of the tunnel. "Are we all ready?" I asked.

"Now we are," said Percy. He turned to entire group and took a deep breath, "I'm not one for speeches so I'll keep this simple. We're going up against something no one, mortal or not, has ever gone up against. I don't know what the battle will be like but I can guarantee you all this. We will go down in history after this," Percy paused, gathering his thoughts. "Just remember all that we have gone through and remember that it's only one small step until we are finished. Basically, let's go kick some giant ass." We all cheered and raised out weapons, and my case fire engulfed fists in the air. Our voiced echoed down the tunnel and we walked through the mouth of the tunnel.

To put it simply the place is indescribable. We emerged in an impossibly large cavern. The cavern stretched forward an impossibly long distance in all directions. Up above us it felt like there no roof considering how high the clouds inside were. But the crowning jewel was Mount Olympus itself. It towered on the opposite side of the cavern, an impossibly large mountain climbing higher and higher and higher with small Greek temples dotting its until it disappeared into the clouds. Through the occasional break in the cloud cover I could see that the mountain still went even further upwards.

We all stood gaping up at the mountain until Percy yelled. We all snapped our attention to where Percy was pointing. Crowded around a small portal a decent distance down the wall to our left was a group of giants and many other small creatures besides them. We all started running towards them, yelling and waving our weapons. A lightning bolt shot by Jason pricked the back of the head of one of the giants. He looked back at us and then crouched down to talk to someone too small for us to see.

A large bump in the perfectly flat ground of the cavern formed near the giants and started hurtling towards us. Within seconds it crossed the impossibly large distance between us, causing all of us to skid to a halt. The mound shrunk down and out from it emerged Gaia, dressed in a small set of armor. "You are too late, _heroes_ ," she gloated, pronouncing the late word with extra disdain. "I have what I have come here for."

"We won't let you get away with it, Gaia," yelled Jason and shot a lightning bolt at her. A tower of dirt and rock thundered out of the ground and took the full blow of the bolt. It sunk back into the ground just as quickly and nosily as it had appeared.

"You are too weak all of you. The strongest one out of all of you _may_ have been a small threat but it doesn't matter," Gaia said, looking down at us all. Her height certainly helped that. "Now run along and tell your parents that they have a bit of time left." With a wave of her hand the ground underneath threw us back several meters. By the time we had gotten back to our feet Gaia had disappeared and all we so of her and the giants was the fading green glow of the portal.

"What just happened?" asked Hazel shakily.

"It seems," Annabeth said slowly, dusting herself off. "That Gaia didn't mean to take over Mount Olympus. She wanted something else."

"And she got it," said Jason.

"Looks like it," said Annabeth.

"So what do we do know?" asked Piper.

"It seems like the only thing we can do now is go back to New York and tell the gods what happened," said Percy, as he put the cap back on Riptide.

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed. "Looks like the Argo II is going on another trip.

"I don't think so," said Annabeth. She pointed back to the cavern wall we had come from. There was a ridiculous amount of portals along that wall and above each one was the name of a different city. I followed her gaze and found that the furthest one on the left was a white portal with a golden plaque above it that read "Mount Olympus: New York City". "It seems like everywhere Mount Olympus it leaves a portal to that place behind."

"Good eye Annabeth," said Percy as he headed off towards the New York portal. The walk back was silent like most of our walks back this time but instead of a fearful silence this one was filled with more dread and worry. Every other time we knew that we had a really big battle to go through with. This time we had no idea what we were going to face.

We all gathered around the portal and looked at each other one last time. We all took a deep breath and filled into the portal. In all honesty it didn't feel very bad, it was almost like we passed through a thin film of cool water. The biggest change I felt after stepping through the portal was the light. The light was blinding and I raised my hands to my eyes.

I lowered my hands to find myself in a large throne room filled with empty seats in a U-shape. I turned around to see Percy talking to a large god who, guessing from his throne, was Hermes. Percy quickly explained to Hermes what happened.

"Wait here," he said, standing up. "I'll fetch Zeus and the others." We all covered our eyes and in a golden flash he was gone.

"It seems like you must be starving," came a voice from behind us. We turned around to find a woman dressed in a traditional Greek toga. "I'm Hestia, goddess of the hearth," she explained to the Romans kindly. "Eat up before the rest get here. Your journey must have difficult to say the least." She gestured to a small table behind her covered in plates of ambrosia. We said a quick thank you and crowded around the table. I grabbed a small piece of ambrosia and ate it quickly. The warmth from it spread throughout me, fixing up a whole lot of small bumps and kinks I'd gotten used to over the course of the trip.

Moments later the food disappeared and the room glowed gold with the coming of the gods. We managed to look away at the right time and when we looked back the gods were seated in their thrones. To say it was intimidating is an understatement. It was absolutely terrifying. I scanned the seated gods and found my dad in a recliner. He gave me a small, warm smile and motioned to look forward to Zeus.

"Hermes gave me and a quick recap. What happened? I want the whole story," Zeus said, his voice rumbling throughout the throne room. Percy and Jason looked at each other then back at Zeus. Percy told the story, giving the general places we've been to and what we did there. Percy gave a more detailed edition of what happened with Gaia at the foot of Mount Olympus.

"And that's all that happened," finished Percy weakly. Zeus's brow furrowed and a small thundercloud formed above his head. We all stood silently unsure of what to do.

"I may have an idea," said a voice from the side of the goddesses. All eyes were on a goddess with the same grey eyes as Annabeth so I guessed she was Athena. "We can't let anyone know what happened on the quest or there will be panic. I suggest we say they defeated Gaia and act as if that happened. In the mean time I'll look into what Gaia took and what she might be planning on doing."

Zeus considered the idea. "Good idea Athena. I expected nothing less." He turned to us. "Even though you haven't fought Gaia I still think you all deserve a significant reward for what you did. Jason, would you like to be a minor god of?" Jason stepped forward, stunned by the offer.

"I believe that you can be a better judge of that than me father," Jason said after a moment of consideration.

"So be it," Zeus said. "I make you the minor god of heroes and quests." A golden wind swirled around Jason, lifting his arms slightly. It died down and Jason looked unchanged but a sense of power radiated from him.

"Thank you," said Jason. He bowed his head and was about to step back with us when Zeus pointed down at the foot of his throne. A simple Jason sized throne appeared where he pointed. Jason looked up at his father in disbelief and then walked to it carefully. When he took his place on it the throne changed its color scheme from silver like Zeus' to red and gold.

"Percy," said Zeus with steel in his voice. "What would you like this time?" He asked with steel in his voice and an angry look in his eyes.

"Lord Zeus," Percy said respectfully as he bowed. "As Jason had put it I believe that you would be the wisest in deciding my gift." The waiting gods and goddesses waited with bated breath for Zeus' response.

"Well spoken," Zeus said after a drawn out pose. "Poseidon, as the boy's father what do you think would a suitable sphere of influence for him?"

"The tides," said the bearded god in the green tinged toga besides Zeus.

"It is done," Zeus declared "And Percy." Percy looked up at Zeus, "I hope you've learned to accept gift when it is offered to you by a god," Zeus said with a hint of gloating in his voice. Percy nodded gratefully. The same golden breeze and throne routine was done with Percy. The rest of the group went in roughly the same way. Annabeth was chosen to be the minor goddess of students. Piper was chosen to be the goddess of "rougher beauty", Aphrodite's words. Frank was chosen to be the minor god of heroes far from their homes. Hazel became the minor goddess of tunnels.

Zeus asked me what I would like my reward to be. "If it's not too much trouble I'd like to ask for more than one thing," I said, bracing myself for the anger of the king of the gods.

"And what might they be?" He asked, amusement in his voice.

"Minor godhood in what is found the best thing for me and access to Ath… Lady Athena's library," I corrected myself halfway through. My head was bowed down so I couldn't see what was going on but I guessed that Zeus and Athena were talking with each other.

"You will be given minor godhood. Your access to Athena's library will only be to the parts that she opens to you," Zeus said after a moment.

"Thank you Lord Zeus. Thank you Lady Athena," I answered gratefully. Hopefully I could find something in Athena's library that would help me get back to Calypso. From the corner of my eyes I saw the golden breeze swirling around me. That was when things went wrong.

"He is mine," said a raspy voice from behind me the same instant I felt a hand grasping my right shoulder tightly. I looked up to see a very surprised Zeus in front of me and an old but clearly powerful silver-haired woman gripping my shoulder. Zeus waved his hand and all the others disappeared from their miniature thrones. "He made a vow on the Styx that he would not be able to keep," The old woman continued. "This boy will not be made immortal."

"That is understood Lady Styx," Zeus said, slightly shaken.

"Very good." She disappeared without another word.

"Hephaestus deal with this. Dionysus, get celebration in Camp Half-Blood ready, the two armies should be fine now," Zeus said as he stood up. A glow of light that I barely managed to react to in time later and Zeus was gone. The rest of the gods and goddesses, with the exception of my dad, disappeared in the same way. I look up at my dad as he walked over, limping on his bad leg and shrinking at the same time.

"Leo," He said gently, with his hand on my shoulder. "What happened?" The words spilled out of my mouth in a long and convoluted story. I told him of how I ended up on Calypso's Island, how I got off, the promise I made on the Styx, and my plan to use what I can find in Athena's library to try and figure something out. Dad listened to all this quietly. "You should not have done that."

"I know it's just that I …" I couldn't find words to describe how I felt.

"It's alright I know how you feel. I talked with Athena and she agreed to help," Dad said.

"What? When?" I asked, confused.

"Just now we gods can exist in multiple places. Come, I have a present for you." I closed my eyes and the air around us glowed gold bright enough to shine through my eyelids. "Here we are."

I opened my eyes to find myself in the forest in Camp Half-Blood. From the direction of the camp the heavy bass of dance music wafted over in the wind. I looked up at my dad and he pointed at the entrance to Bunker 9. I heaved it open and stepped down into it. What I saw took my breath away. "How?" I managed to ask as I soaked in the much larger workshop.

"I sectioned off part of my own workshop for you," Dad said, clapping his hand on my shoulder. "It has an infinite supply of everything you will need, everything you won't need and things you still don't know that you need. I also pulled Festus from the Argo II and made him in charge of running the place. If you ever need me I'm just on the other side of that door," He pointed at the far wall of the workshop where two small doors stood, one orange and one silver. "Athena put in the silver one so that you'd have easier access to her library."

"Thanks so much Dad," I said and hugged his tremendous waist.

"It's the least I can do," He said with a smile. "Go wild." I didn't need telling twice. I dashed off into the heart of the workshop to see what toys I had to play with.

Athena finished shifting all of her knowledge into book form with a sigh of relief. "That Leo has gotten himself into a lot of trouble," She thought to herself. She crossed the double aircraft hangar sized space to the door that connected to Bunker 9. The open door blared a cacophony of assorted metal ringing and machine anthems.

With a grimace she stepped through the doorway into the workshop to find her half-brother, Hephaestus waiting for her on the other side. "You wanted to see me?" Hephaestus asked, leaning against the wall to take his weight off his bad leg.

"Yes I did," answered Athena. "How powerful is Leo?"

Hephaestus looked at her carefully measuring her up. "Not as much as Jason and Percy." He answered, his disfigured face set in stone.

"Hephaestus, I'm the goddess of wisdom. I can put two and two together. He's obviously more powerful than that. Why else would the spirit of the Styx show up in person so say that when so many other ways would have been just as effective." Athena crossed her arms and stared back into his coal black eyes.

Hephaestus sighed and rubbed his leg brace through the legs of his overalls. "He is more powerful than the both of them combined."

"Powerful enough to demand a forced limiter?"

"We both know how much a superiority complex Zeus has. It's the only thing keeping him safe," Hephaestus answered. Prompting a look of surprise from Athena.

"That much?" asked Athena. Hephaestus nodded. "Wow."

"He might be the only one able to crack Zeus' enchantment on Calypso." Athena opened her mouth to say something. "I'll deal with that when the time comes."

"I guess that explains why you've slowed down during the last few years."

"Yeah, the limiter takes a huge toll on me."

"I'd better show him the library," Athena said. She faced the workshop and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Leo!" she yelled.

A head and shoulders popped out from between two machines in the middle of the workshop. Leo guessed that the figure in the grey hoodie was Athena so he literally dropped what he was doing with a clang as the metal bounced on the ground. The demi-god scrambled over the machines in between him and the goddess of wisdom, using them as skipping stones across the workshop. Several hops and skips later a grease covered Leo was standing in front of his father and Athena.

"You had called?" Leo said, respectfully bowing.

"No need to bow. Come, I want to show you the library," Athena said, opening the door.

"Thank you Lady Athena," Leo said as he walked through the door.

"Tell me, what do you know about the Dewey Decimal System," asked Athena as he walked past her.

"Nothing at all," answered Leo.

"This will take a while," Athena said to herself. Hephaestus chuckled.


	2. Boston

_Six years after the prologue_

Lieutenant Ben knew a few things about crazies in the allies of New York but the two most important things he knew were that that they came out of nowhere and to never under any circumstances look at them. The scars across his chest from the nails of a dying crack addict made sure he would never make that mistake again. Unfortunately for Lieutenant Ben that lesson slipped his mind the one time he needed it most.

Just as daylight broke over New York and Apollo brought his sports car over the horizon the air in a dirty alley in the Bronx cracked with a sharp crack loud enough to wake up Lieutenant Ben in his cardboard box at the mouth of the alley. He stirred awake and glanced down the alley to where he thought an alley cat had pushed a glass bottle out of a dumpster. Instead he found a travel worn teenager climbing out a schism in the air while carrying out a one sided conversation. The site was enough to make Lieutenant Ben's head spin. After holding his head in his hands while the laundry-machine-esque view of the world settled down he looked back down the alley.

The teenager was oblivious to his surroundings; whatever he was imaging was enough to keep him from trying to walk out of the pile of trash around his legs. From his jeans, boots, and jacket Ben guessed he was from a decent upbringing. "But that doesn't explain what's he doing here," thought Ben as he tried to get a better look. Two subtle hints told Ben all he needed to make a half decent guess.

The teenager had no outside signs of being involved in anything on the wrong side of the law. The color of his jacket was one unused by any gangs in New York City and although his black hair was cut short it was a very conservative and neutral cut that no one bothered with today since it only served to help someone not stand out. However, Ben noticed that he held himself like someone who would get his way, either by civil methods or not so civil; Ben saw enough guys like him on both sides in Vietnam to tell the difference. The second clue was more subtle and wasn't based on anything logical. Even though the kid looked like he was in his late teens he radiated a sense of power and command enough to make Ben reconsider talking to him.

Ben considered pretending he never woke up but he was drawn back to the strange teen when he started speaking a normal language instead of the guttural mess he was using. "What the hell do you mean by Boston, Rotterdam, Munich, Long Island? You're making less sense than normal and that's saying something," the teenager seemed to respond to someone who, judging from his tone, he didn't really like. "Why couldn't tell me to just go and meet Portgas and Hans I'd have been able to find my way around from there? Yes, we're in such a rush because all other missions were really relaxed." The sarcasm in that last sentence was almost palpable. "Wait. They're coming too? Damn. How big is this mission?" The teenager dropped the attitude and listened carefully to the sounds of the city waking up.

In the same manner as how he came into the alley a small bottle of black mist and a sunglasses case appeared in front of him. He plucked them out of the air, listened then said, "How would that work? You're either a pure-son or a half-son. This'll make me a what? Son-and-a-half?" There was a pause. "Fine. And what do you mean by 'the sunglasses will help'? ... I really should stop expecting straight answers from you dad." A ripple passed through the air in the alley and Ben felt a harsh, chaotic presence disappear and he found himself able to breathe easily.

The teenager looked at the bottle, sizing it up then opened it. The mist rushed out like a feral animal and rushed at his face. He jumped back with a yell of surprise, crashing into the brick wall behind him as the mist burrowed into his eyes. His hands flew up to his eyes instinctively but the mist disappeared quickly. Ben got up from his place on the concrete floor, he was too used to helping others out, even at his own expense, to be able to let anyone go through any pain without helping them out in some way.

"Hey kid. Are you alright?" asked Ben as he crossed over to the collapsed teenager in a heap of garbage. Without waiting for answer Ben grasped a surprisingly powerful arm and pulled the kid to his feet.

"Yeah I'm fine," the teenager said as he opened his eyes. A golden glow from the teenager's eyes lit up the alley brighter than Times Square on New Year's Eve. By getting involved with the strange kid who came out of nowhere Ben got himself killed. The godly light coming from the kid's eyes was more than enough to burn up the old vet. It reduced him to a small pile of ash and teeth on the teenager's boots.

"That might come in useful sometime," Marcus commented idly as he kicked the remains off his boots. He stooped down and picked up the solid black case he dropped when he jumped back. Sitting inside the case was a large pair of sunglasses. What was remarkable about these sunglasses was that they were made a material so black that they're color seemed to be not black but more like an absence of color.

When the sunglasses were placed on Marcus' nose the glow from his eyes disappeared behind the black lens of the sunglasses. A tap at the pocket of his jeans confirmed the presence of Marcus' weapon, now just a small hilt of a sword. "Boston, Rotterdam, Munich, Long Island," Marcus said to himself as he walked out of the alley and into the crowd of commuters. "How to do so?"

One stranger stopped for directions Marcus was northbound for Boston. Slowly Marcus began getting used to his new powers. As far as he could figure out his new powers were focused on sight since his vision would often switch to a golden wireframe of his surroundings with various valuables in pockets and pockets.

This new ability put a smile on Marcus' lips. A wish to see if he could remember an old skill and a pocket that was worryingly empty was enough motivation for Marcus to break out his knowledge of pickpocketing. Without breaking his pace Marcus let his vision shift to the odd wireframe he could do accidently. The only way a stranger could tell something changed had was a faint golden glow from behind the stylish sunglasses and a sharp intake of breath.

From behind his sunglasses Marcus' world turned into a black canvas populated by golden wires forming the outline of the different people, buildings, cars, and benches on the street. As soon as he got used to walking around and not tripping over his own feet in this mode Marcus found his target, a thick wallet in the back pocket of a man listening to his headphones. Marcus switched back to his normal vision and locked the man in his sights. The regret of not having two others to help with this job disappeared quickly as the distance between him and his mark closed quickly.

A practiced bump into the man and a false yet enthusiastic apology set up the play. As the man struggled to make sense of the overeager boy in his late teens apologizing to him Marcus made sure his back pocket became a bit lighter. With the precision of a practiced surgeon Marcus slipped the wallet into his own pocket and slipped back into the crowd. As he left the man behind the familiar thrill of a successful pick-up reminded Marcus of the cobbled streets and soot filled air of London.

Only when he was a fair distance away from the man did Marcus open the wallet. The crisp and not quite so crisp dollar bills were what Marcus cared about. The wallet was of no use to Marcus so it was tossed aside into an alleyway. By the time Marcus left the heavily congested sidewalk there were enough wallets in alleys to fill several shops and upwards of $3000 dollars in cash were hidden in Marcus' pockets.

A quick stop in a drug store on a corner left Marcus with a cheap backpack filled with various things he learned to depend on after centuries of travelling on missions for his godly father. He cracked open a can of soda and drained it as he walked with one hand and with the other he opened up an old map. After trying unsuccessfully to keep the paper blanket from flying around he sat down, annoyed that he had to stop.

The can made a satisfying crunch when Marcus crumpled it up with one hand. The scale for distances and how fast they could be closed worried him. According to the cartographer who put the map was a 3 day hike. Marcus quickly ran through his options, he could go for a 3 day walk, which wasn't the most glamorous of options since he already had a long enough trip ahead, or he could try to hitchhike, which didn't seem likely since he was in the middle of the city, or he could hope for a miracle.

After considering his option Marcus decided to walk to Boston and hope for a miracle. Marcus stuffed the map roughly into his bag and put it on his shoulders. Walking long distances wasn't a problem for Marcus so he started out on his trip. Fortunately for him the miracle he hoped for showed up in the formed of a dying Crown Victoria.

Marcus was beside the highway out of New York City when a dying patchwork Crown Victoria pulled up at a gas station in front of him. Out of curiosity and to break the monotony of the trip Marcus walked up to the car. In the driver's seat he found a worn out, unshaven shell of a man. The tapping on the glass of the driver's seat snapped awake. He found Marcus motioning for him to open the window. He looked at him suspiciously before running down the window. "What?"

"How much do you want for this?" asked Marcus.

"What?" the man answered, thinking he misheard.

"I need a car to get around and you look like you want to get rid of it." Marcus said.

The man looked up at Marcus, trying to read him. It was true that he wanted to sell Patch, but no one wanted to buy a twenty something year old car on its last legs. The last time he put it up on craigslist no one had responded. "Two grand," the man said, trying to push his limits.

"One grand and you have a deal," Marcus answered.

The man considered it for a moment, "Done." He got out of the car to stand beside Marcus who was peeling out several hundred dollar bills from his roll of cash. "How old are you kid?" asked the man as he took the money from Marcus.

"Old enough," Marcus held out a hundred dollar bill. The man looked at him suspiciously but desperation for money won out. He took the money and Marcus got in the car. The man gave Marcus one last glance then walked towards the gas station. The car sputtered and coughed as it stirred itself to life. Marcus drove the car onto the main road and merged with the light traffic.

A short three hour put Marcus on the outskirts of the Boston. He left the car on the side of the road with the keys in since he wasn't going to need it for the next leg of his journey. Hoisting his bag on his back Marcus headed towards the docks. From the instructions he received Marcus guessed that he would need to take a boat to Rotterdam. With the smell of the sea and directions from a few locals Marcus found the large docks made for the shipping of large cargo from other countries.

Instead of heading into the harbor Marcus walked out onto a pier. Sometime during his travels Marcus developed a sixth sense that buzzed when deities were near. As he approached the end of the pier that sense started to act up inside his head. At the end of the pier Marcus stood beside an old bearded fisherman in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked the deity.

"Go ahead," the fisherman said as he watched his bob out in the sea. Marcus sat on the edge of the pier with his legs dangling off the side. The two sat in silence, looking out to a calm sea under a dark orange sky until the old man broke it. "You didn't have to ask to have a seat."

"Etiquette dictates that you should ask permission to enter the presence of a god," Marcus replied evenly.

The fisherman chuckled. "That must be a new form of compliment. What makes you think that?"

"Look here," Marcus said. The fisherman looked down, amused. In an instant he changed his expression from mild amusement to shock. Looking into Marcus' face Poseidon saw two orbs of pure godly energy burning where eyes should be. In an instant Poseidon changed into his war form, shifting into a tall, muscular, broad shouldered warrior in Greek armor accented with sea green eyes armed with a shining bronze trident.

"What are you?" demanded the sea god, pointing his trident at the being in front of him. Marcus stared back at him calmly, giving the weapon only a cursory glance.

"What does this remind you of?" Marcus asked, raising his sunglasses into Poseidon's field of vision. Poseidon, disconcerted by the calmness of the teenager in front of him, looked at the sunglasses. They reminded him of something he had saw once; something important. Try as he might he couldn't remember what it was that it was; it felt like trying to remember an old dream of which only fragments remain. "Go all the way back," Marcus said, "back to when Zeus led you against Kronos." Marcus' words jogged Poseidon's memory and he found the scrap he was looking for.

He had seen this absence of light once before. Leading him and his brothers against their father it was a memory that almost faded with time. The exact identity the person he saw it with was beyond him, but he knew enough. The Olympian uprising against their father could not have happened without the leadership of this person. "We haven't met before but the one you remember is weaker than me." Marcus got up from the pier to stand beside a shell shocked Poseidon.

"What do you want from me?" the sea god asked, letting his weapon and armor fade away.

"Safe passage across the Atlantic. And your silence," Marcus answered.

"You have my word of honor on both of those. If you wish I could get you to where you want now. You wouldn't have to take a ship."

"No thanks. I prefer to figure things out for myself," Marcus said with a shake of his head, "Although I appreciate the offer." Marcus stood up, dusting off the back of his jeans. The thought of saying something in farewell crossed his mind but Marcus couldn't think of a polite thing to say to a god trying to remember a probably bad memory from the time when he was a child. Under the rapidly darkening sky Marcus left the sea god behind at the end of the end of the pier.

To his right was the now brightly illuminated shipyard, caged behind a tall chicken wire fence topped with barbed wire and a an armed checkpoint. Marcus stood in the guards blind spot and stole a glance in both directions. The only people out on the street were fishermen chatting amongst themselves with their backs to Marcus, heading home after a long day on the pier. Marcus took a few steps back from the fence and tightened the straps on his back.

With one last glance up and down the street Marcus ran towards the fence. He kicked off the sidewalk, hard, and jumped straight up into the air, over the fence with several inches of night air between the soles of his boots and the tips of the barbed wire. He immediately hurtled down to the ground, tucking into a roll to end up at a standstill several meters away from the fence. Without losing a moment Marcus dashed into the shadows of the maze created by thousands of shipping containers.

A breath Marcus didn't know he was holding was released with a smile. "I missed this," Marcus thought to himself. He walked down the corridor of steel until he found a break in the towers. A simple leap put Marcus on top of the first level of containers. Another put him on the second. A third put him on top of the containers and gave him an unrestricted view of the flood lit shipping yards with its massive metal beasts of burden waiting in their pens for their cargo.

Amazingly no one saw Marcus standing where he shouldn't be. If they did they didn't do anything to show that they noticed him. A tall office like building stood at one end of the shipyard near the entrance. Marcus guessed that that would be where the managers would be and that reasonably they would have the schedules and routes of each of the ships. He headed off towards it, crossing the wide gaps between stacks of containers with ease.

Unfortunately for Marcus the containers stopped a good twenty meters away from the side of the building and on the concrete ground beneath him was streaming with men in hard hats with clipboards in their hands. Fortunately there was an open window on the top floor just across from Marcus. Marcus eyeballed the distance between him and the open window and decided he could make it.

He strolled to the very end of the container and turned back to face the window. Marcus took a moment to shake life back into his legs. One last deep breath and Marcus broke into a sprint. Marcus found himself at the opposite end of the container which prompted him to push off the metal edge. Like a cannonball Marcus sailed through the air above the sight of the workers below. Marcus tucked himself into a ball and passed through the window cleanly.

Unfortunately Marcus miscalculated and continued rolling into the room. Marcus' head smashed against a vending machine at the end of the room with a heavy smack, leaving a large in it. "What the hell?" asked a man sitting at a table with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

"I had, uh," Marcus said as he stood up, hand pressed against the side of the head. He feigned a stumble to the table where the man was sitting. The man reached out instinctively to break Marcus' fall. Unfortunately for the man he played right into Marcus' trap. Marcus shot his hand to the man's head, grabbed a fistful of blonde hair then viciously smashed the man's head into the table with a sharp crack of breaking bones. The man slumped down and off the table, drawing a trail of blood where his nose was.

From the corridor outside came the sound of silence and for that Marcus was glad. He quickly walked out of the room and, seeing a dead-end to his left, took a right down the hallway. The corridor opened up to a large open plan hall filled with desks topped with ridiculous amounts of papers and computers. The large world map crisscrossed with lines across the various oceans drew Marcus' attention. When he walked over to stand in front of it Marcus noticed a large chart on a whiteboard beside it. One of the columns were marked had "Destination" printed neatly at its top and, much to Marcus' relief, two rows had Rotterdam marked there. One of the ships left early in the morning of the next day while the second left at 5 past.

A clock above the map rang out. Marcus glanced up to find it announcing the arrival of the hour. The decision of which ship to stow away on was decided. Marcus checked the row of the ship leaving in five minutes for which dock it would leave from. "It just had to be the furthest dock from here," Marcus said as he crossed the room to a pair of double that looked like they would lead out to the stairwell.

Just as Marcus was about to open the door he heard voices coming up the stairs. Marcus judged that the voice belonged to two people. He waited with his hand on the doorknob until one of them was just behind the door. Marcus shoved the door open in the person's face, smashing him against the wall; the second person, a short bald man, missed the door's smash. Marcus stepped forward and knocked the man out cold with a single jab to the job broke teeth and sent him toppling down the stairs.

The racket caused some voices to be raised from a few flights down. Marcus ignored them and took the stairs up to the roof. The locked door yielded against the shoulder that a running Marcus threw into it.

Marcus stepped out into the night air. His target, a large generic cargo ship, was at the opposite end of the port. As the crow flies Marcus could have crossed the enormous distance to his goal at a dead sprint with enough time to spare. But since between him and his goal was a several story drop, a ridiculous amount of dock workers, and a stupidly complicated maze of shipping containers he would have to find another way.

Shouting from the stair-well and the sound of footsteps urged Marcus to get moving. Marcus took off at a run and leapt the distance between the roof of the building and onto the containers where he was just minutes earlier. Landing was less graceful than he hoped for, pulling him down to his hands and knees with a loud clang. He didn't wait to see if anyone heard him, choosing instead to start running.

From the searchlight that swung onto him and the siren that started shrieking Marcus guessed that someone saw him. In a perverted sense of the word Marcus was glad for the attention. It meant that he didn't have to worry about staying hidden. With a grin Marcus kicked himself into fourth gear; sprinting out towards the sea with heavy footfalls. The searchlight had a difficult time keeping up with the accelerating figure that leapt great distance as if it were stepping over cracks in the sidewalk. In only a few short moments Marcus outran the glare of the searchlight and swung towards the left towards the large machines shaped like an upside-U that straddled the parking spaces of the ships.

When he was close enough to the leg of the machine by his standards, which were impossibly far by any normal human's standards, Marcus jumped up off the containers, flying upwards. At the top of the arc of his jump Marcus slammed into the tall yellow leg. The stainless steel bent in his hands when Marcus grabbed on and then groaned in pain when Marcus flung himself upwards again and again. Eventually he reached the dizzying top bar of the machine, standing on a ledge barely wide enough for one foot.

Without a second thought to the idea of toppling off and into water, which from his height would feel like solid concrete, Marcus took off at a full sprint along the bar. For a moment the scene reminded Marcus of his lessons of free running along the sides of skyscrapers in a whitewashed city. Marcus snapped back to reality, vaulting over a chunk of metal that appeared in his way. The cool wind whipped around him, the metal underneath rang out at his footsteps and the drop at the end of the machine ran closer.

Marcus played chicken with the several story drop. When the toe of his boot was suspended in the air above the ground and the heel of his boot struggled to stay on the bar Marcus pushed off. With surprising grace Marcus glided through the night air, seemingly suspended by strings in the clouds. Instead of trying to land on a metal bar that was barely as wide as his foot Marcus flipped himself in the air and somersaulted along the bar, arms tucked up against his chest like an Olympian athlete.

Marcus recovered from the athletic feat without slowing down. His forward momentum conserved, Marcus crossed the second machine faster than the first. The third was put behind him just as fast. Despite his rocketing along the Rotterdam bound ship blasted its horn and started drifting out to sea while Marcus was in the air between the third and fourth machine and halfway to his goal. Marcus wasn't worried, the further out the ship was the better his chances of not getting kicked off were.

The fourth and fifth passed with the same speed and with no deviation from his established method. The sixth one was where Marcus did something different. Marcus slowed down his pace only slightly. From his pocket Marcus pulled out a hilt of a sword that was longer too large to hide inside his fist. At a thought from a Marcus a large steel hook made of a black material bled out of the hilt. Marcus place put the hook through the bars of the machine at the center as he vaulted over it. From the hilt of his sword a long chain made of the same material emerged, stretched taut as Marcus ran away from the hook, letting more of the chain run out of the hilt.

When he neared the edge of the machine Marcus jumped sideways, away from where the ship was. A second thought from Marcus caused the blade to stop letting out more of the chain. The chain pulled Marcus in a circle and yet a third thought caused it to shrink back in the hilt. The shrinking of the chain pulled Marcus in a circle around the hook, flinging him around faster and faster as it shrunk.

When Marcus completed half a circle and was about to turn back around in the same direction he was running he willed the chain to disappear. It obeyed instantly and Marcus was flung out to sea by his own momentum. Marcus flew through the air, headed towards the ship. By a stroke of luck that he didn't expect Marcus managed to land in the middle of several stacks of containers, denting the ones he smashed against.

He toppled fell to the steel floor of the ship with a loud clang. Rubbing his head Marcus climbed to his feet, the sound of deck hands approaching the source of the noise he heard. Marcus' plan was not as well defined from this point onwards which was a bit worrisome. Marcus headed away from the approaching footsteps of the deckhands towards the back of the ship.

Fortunately for Marcus the ship was the stern was abandoned. A quick search showed a small stairway leading down to the engines. Marcus followed the stairs down, the sound of the engines growing louder. Several floors down the stairs opened out onto a landing. The red light of the ship's interior revealed a door marked "Engine Supervisors" and a hatch on the floor marked "To Engines". Marcus ignored the door and opened the hatch. He dropped down into the bowels of the ship, closing the ship behind him.

The drone of the engines was ridiculously loud but beggars can't be choosers. Marcus picked a patch of steel on the floor and dropped his pack. He settled done into what would be his home for however long the trip would be.

When Marcus entered the world from the rift in the air he created a ripple in the subtle layer of the universe that holds it together. He caused another one when he absorbed the contents of the bottle. On Mount Olympus Zeus' throne trembled and its owner noticed. He sent out birds to keep an eye on the source of the disturbance. When they told their master what they saw his face turned white.

Unlike his older brother Zeus knew where he saw that same absence of light that made up Marcus' sunglasses. The significance of that absence of light was a secret that Zeus kept very close to his chest, going far enough to hide the memory from the minds of Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia. Without the Forgotten One, as the others came to call this lapse in their memory, the first generation of Olympians could not have overthrown their father without the Forgotten One.

The news put Zeus into shock for the time it took Marcus to reach Boston. He came to a final decision after much deliberation. He could not have such power in his world. That power must not exist. A small sparrow that followed Marcus through Boston told Zeus that Marcus was on a ship headed out to see. Zeus was able to threaten and get someone on the port to tell him where the ship was going.

Across the ocean in Rotterdam a group of anarchists were gathered underneath a bridge for their weekly get together. Most of them were there due to the rebellious phase they were going through, but their leader, a small bearded man with wild eyes in their sockets, was an anarchist fanatic. He normally didn't care for rich strangers but when a large blue eyed man donated more money than all the members of the group would see in several lifetimes he paid attention. In addition to the money the man donated several crates of weapons and explosives. When asked why he ignored that and said that more would be donated within three weeks they would have enough weapons and soldiers to take down the European Union as long as one particular man died. The anarchists' greed was enough for them to agree to these terms.

Zeus said that he'd be back with what he promised and left. The bullets were all lined with celestial bronze to make sure that Marcus would not get up after he was hit by them. At least Zeus hoped that would be enough to get rid of that particular threat.


	3. Rotterdam

The Saga of Marcus Ram: Chapter 2 "Rotterdam"

Deep inside the ship, with his back against the throbbing turbines Marcus slept. He dove too many times to be able to dream so when something pushed itself into the fabric of his conscience he paid attention. He soared high in the night sky, above the clouds and high enough to see the Earth curving away in the distance. Without any warning he dove down through the clouds, hurtling down towards the dark sea. Cities and roads glowed gold; Marcus traced the fragmented and twisting coastline to conclude that he was above the Lowlands of Europe.

His course change slightly, enough to push him towards the Netherlands. He swept south towards Rotterdam and then dove between the buildings. He hurtled along the roads, skimming the tops of cars. The streets grew darker and seedier as he flew towards the unfashionable end of town. Just as suddenly as was his dive Marcus came to a stop in the middle of a large square filled with people.

Marcus floated towards a stocky street performer with olive green hair and a large mane of dark brown hair. The man juggled multiple flaming balls with ease and a smile on his face, much to the amusement of the gathered crowd of tourists. Marcus vaguely wandered what the point of this when a name came into his mind, Empristos Floya. The name held no meaning for Marcus until another scrap of information came to mind, Commander of the Half-Sons.

"So that's why I was sent here," Marcus said as he woke with the memory of the dream fresh in his mind. He got up to his feet and began heading out, leaving his backpack behind. Marcus climbed up to the deck of the ship without being seen by any technicians. On deck most of the crew was busy docking to take enough notice of him.

Once the ship was right above the pavement Marcus climbed onto the railing. He looked around at the shipyard and found the guard tower. A loud whistle rang throughout the shipyard, getting the attention of the head of security in the tower. The staff in the tower turned towards the source of the whistle to find someone standing on the railing of the currently docking ship.

Marcus waved at them to get their attention, made a rude gesture then stepped off the railing. He fell down the height of the ship and landed feet first on the concrete floor of the shipyard, cracking the ground from the impact. The sound of a guard hurrying towards where Marcus was made him look up.

The guard, a slight blonde man, approached Marcus with his weapon drawn. "Who are you?" he asked in a heavy Dutch accent.

"You both know I'm not answering that question." Marcus turned pulled his feet out of the craters he made from his drop. The guard shout to stay where he was ignored and Marcus turned to face him. The guard reached for this radio to radio the situation back to the control tower. That was the cue Marcus was waiting for. He pushed off the guard and closed the distance in a fraction of an instant.

Marcus slapped the side of the guard's head with an open palm, bursting his eardrum and tossing him to the side. The guard smashed into the side of the containers stacked nearby and collapsed down into a heap with a short yelp of pain before passing out. Marcus rifled through his pockets, taking his firearm and the two magazines from his pockets. Marcus pointed the gun up at the sky and emptied a clip, reloaded, emptied the second, reloaded, and shot again leaving only two bullets in magazine.

The shipyard flipped into complete panic mode, klaxons blaring, security teams suiting up in riot gear and calls being put to the _Dienst Speciale Interventies_ , the Special Intervention Unit. Marcus on the other hand stayed where he was, waiting for someone to come and try to stop him. To their credit the response came quickly.

A small team armed with riot shields and assault rifles assembled quickly where gunshots were last heard. They dropped into position, covering each other with their weapons trained on the rising teenager. "Drop the weapon and come with us without any struggle," said one of the figures in the squad when he noticed the stolen handgun in Marcus' hand. "We can help you if you just co-operate with us."

"I've been in a small room next to a ridiculously loud engine. The only thing I need now is to stretch my legs," Marcus answered. He aimed the gun at the passed out guard and shot out a bullet into his stomach. The man groaned faintly as a bright red splotch began spreading across his stomach. The assault squad looked like they wanted to jump forward to tackle the teen but the air of confidence and how at ease he looked while shooting the guard made them wary.

Marcus looked back at the squad expectantly. Seeing no visible reaction he cocked his head and pushed his new power forward. From behind his sunglasses came a golden glow, visible to the assault squad in the darkness of the night. For Marcus an overload of information flooded into his mind. A torrent of information, senses, information, emotions, and everything in between pushed into Marcus' mind.

His newfound power apparently extended to more than amplifying his sight. He could now see into people's minds. All their thoughts and dreams and wishes and plans and senses; everything they saw, everything they heard, everything they smelt, everything they touched, everything they tasted; every insignificant scrap of information, no matter how insignificant, conscience and not, roared up and muscled into Marcus' mind. His identity was pushed back to the last scrap of his conscience. For a brief moment Marcus felt himself slipping away into the dark void that ran just underneath the surface of every universe he's been in, the same one that he changed the flow of by his fingertips.

Inside Marcus' skull, amid all the noise of holding several consciences inside his mind, a single shout of defiance that was more power and meaningless emotion than anything rang out. Behind the shout was enough power to cut off the conscience and silence the live streaming of the archives of several people. To any observers nothing of note happened. A golden glow emerged from behind the trespassing teenager's eyes followed by him clutching his head in pain.

With his problem sorted out Marcus looked back up at the squad. "Never again. Hosting Jane was easier than that mess" he thought to himself. Marcus looked back up at the squad, who were still holding their position. "You really are hard to take care of aren't you?" he said right before pointing the gun at them and pulling the trigger.

The squad opened fire, a short burst from their rifles right at where Marcus was standing. With the opening shots concluded the squad looked for the bullet riddled corpse where Marcus would be standing. The surprise of seeing nothing was enough for them to loosen their formation in confusion.

"I thought you were supposed to take down an armed trespasser like an assault squad, not kill him like you were a firing squad." Came a voice from behind them. They turned around quickly and aimed their weapons at Marcus again. They opened fire again. Once again Marcus dodged their bullets by moving faster than they could comprehend. He squeezed between a container and the member nearest it, picking the spare magazines as he walked. Marcus stopped where he was slowed down his pace to real time.

"Not that that's over." The squad turned around for the umpteenth time, by this point furious and confused that this happened twice. "Let's actually start." Marcus crossed the small distance between him and the squad before they could get their bearings and got to work.

According to the squad when they were later questioned about how they let him get away they unanimously answered that he was too much. Using only his bare hands Marcus dismantled the team completely. The different members were tossed aside, sustaining several broken bones in the process and injuries of that caliber, their weapons were taken from them and broken down to their components crudely then scattered around the scene.

After taking care of the first squad Marcus used his new sight again. He was more careful, giving himself a bird's eye view of the entire shipyard; just enough to see the approaching back up and the routes they intend to take but not enough to see their life story. Marcus leapt up on top of the shipping containers and ran off.

The second group Marcus encountered were larger and more professional. They heard the yells of Marcus' victims over their radio and so approached with caution. Unfortunately for them Marcus reached them before they him. Above them Marcus was running with silent footsteps on top of the containers. He saw them far ahead, sticking close to each other and walking forward and oblivious of the incoming threat.

A wide grin spread across Marcus' face. At the last second Marcus stepped off the container with a small side hop. Instantly he dropped down, aiming at the figure in the lead. His boot landed on the helmet of the lead figure placing a ridiculous amount of strain on his neck and forcing him down to the ground. With his fall broken and no longer in free fall Marcus began his attack. An open palmed slap snapped the neck of the figure to his right. After pivoting to face the one to his left Marcus shot out a sucker punch so powerful it ruptured several organs and threw the receipt back to smash against the shipping containers.

Marcus moved onto the row behind them. The one in the middle was thrown upwards by the collar of his bullet proof vest. The one to his right suffered from a fist through the Plexiglas of his helmet that shattered his skull. While occupied with the one on his left Marcus lashed out with a kick to the leg of the guard on his right. Before the guard could drop from a broken knee Marcus had reached him and threw a haymaker at the side of his chest. The crunch of breaking ribs was audible when contact was made.

The punch threw him back and carried the one behind him in the same direction. A solid strike to the center of the chest and a knee to the abdomen, despite their hiding behind a solid layer of Kevlar, were enough to dispatch the last two guards.

This entire fray left the entire squad in the vicinity of death's doorstep and Marcus feeling refreshed from his journey. At this moment the guard that was thrown back by the rapidly moving body in front of him was able to react to the sudden threat. His reaction, although relatively delayed, was impressive since Marcus dispatched the entire group in under a second. The guard took a moment to reorient himself, picked up his weapon, aimed at Marcus and fired.

Marcus, still in his heightened state of battle, heard the sound of the gun being fired and dodged the semi-automatic spray with ease. He moved in a rapidly tightening circle in his route towards the guard. Before he could bring his gun around to aim at Marcus the gun was kicked out of hands. Marcus smashed his foot down on the guard's throat.

Marcus took a deep breath and flicked his flicked the blood of his boot casually. Now that he had shaken some life back into himself he had to go find the one he was sent to Rotterdam to meet. Leaving the disarray behind Marcus headed off out of the shipyard. The shipyard was on high alert but Marcus was used to being hunted. He hid himself in plain sight in ways that were ingenious, borderline magic and literal magic in one case where he was close to being caught.

Ultimately Marcus walked out the highly alert shipyard on his own two feet and with no one following him. Despite the city being on high alert and police cars racing around to find the apparently armed character who took out several members of the Dutch Special Forces Marcus was able to avoid being noticed by those looking for him.

Despite having only seen his goal from a bird's eye view Marcus was able to negotiate the streets of Rotterdam with ease to reach the square he was aiming for. The square was fairly large and pulsing with life; the street vendors were selling their goods, tourists were walking around taking in the sights; and the locals were out enjoying their favorite haunts despite it being the far side of midnight. Marcus saw the man he was supposed to meet from across the square.

He wasn't difficult to find. Juggling burning pins attracted a large crowd that oohed and aahed every time he did a particularly dangerous stunt. Marcus smiled and waited at a café on the opposite side of the square where he could keep an eye on Empristos. From his experience with meeting people in the same position in the Half Son Army could be a bit explosive and while collateral damage was not high on Marcus' list of priorities losing him in the crowd and then tearing apart half a city would not leaving the best impression on someone who would definitely be hostile. What Marcus did not notice was someone who double checked his appearance against a picture he had.

By the time the crowd in the square started packing up and thinning it was close to three in the morning. The street entertainers packed up and Empristos was no exception. Marcus paid his bill with a few euros he lifted from the pocket of the waiter who brought him his coffee then got up. Empristos chatted with those around him then packed up his equipment in an old beat up duffel bag. He finished his conversation then headed back to the hostel he was staying in.

Marcus tailed him and made no effort to hide himself. Empristos looked back a few times and saw Marcus behind him. Empristos did not recognize Marcus but gave him the benefit of doubt the second time he saw him behind him. The third time he was suspicious. The fourth time he knew something was up.

The first corner Marcus turned after Empristos realized something was happening he found Empristos standing in the middle of the walking street and facing Marcus. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

Marcus got straight to the point. "You are Empristos Floya," Marcus stated. Due to the way the nature of the Half Son Army none of the member knew each other. They only knew those in the rank directly below them and would recognize their immediate superior when they would meet them. The reason none of them knew each other was because of the destructive potential they had as an army. Additionally their power would cause competition to appear. The fallout would always be catastrophic so secrecy was the simplest solution.

Empristos kept his name hidden and would always use a different name. For someone to know his name would mean that they knew how powerful he really was. On the two occasions that happened before he fought for his life and barely made it out. Since the teenager was nothing like the seven foot red headed mountain of a man he knew was his superior Empristos assumed that the teenager wanted his head on a pike. Instead of responding to the statement Empristos put up his hands lit the street up like the surface of the sun.

Fire spilled out of his hands in a massive storm that filled up the small street and grew further, flying up high to touch the clouds and momentarily make the city look like it was in the middle of a cloudless noon. Empristos held the flames for the better part of a minute before letting them stop. The sides of the building were charred and the rooms that opened onto to the street were burned to a crisp. Before the last tongues of fire died out Empristos saw a clenched fist filling up his field of vision.

Marcus' newfound powers let him see the incoming blast a fraction of a second before it struck. It left his barely enough time to summon his inherited powers to pull up a barrier. The instant it died down Marcus jumped forward towards Empristos and threw a punch at his face. Before he could reason with him he needed to be in a position of power.

The punch collapsed Empristos' cheekbone and threw him backwards. He righted himself in the middle of his unplanned flight and threw a few fireballs at Marcus. The first was dodged by Marcus and continued on its path. It struck the side of a building and blew up, leaving a large hole in the building the size of a large apartment. Marcus batted the second aside, it continued on to blow the roof of another building.

Marcus tackled the third one head on. It exploded against his chest, scorching the asphalt underneath him. Marcus had been through hell in more than one way and in comparison the fireball was not something that he'd have to push his limits to live through. He did cloak himself in a thin shield to avoid the hassle of having his clothes burned off.

He ploughed through it and the one after it without breaking his stride, closing the distance between himself and Empristos. With Empristos off balance Marcus was able to gather himself for a trick that he learned from his father. Marcus struck Empristos with a clenched fist in the center of his chest, literally punching the life out of his body.

For Empristos it felt like a harpoon was stabbed into him where Marcus' fist connected with his body. Said harpoon then felt like it was peeling his soul from his body, pushing into the cold of the air. The world as seen by a ghost was very different from what Empristos usually saw. With his head cast to the side he saw glowing outlines of people around him. They seemed be everywhere as far as he could see. Most were lying down still on nothing and while some were walking around or sitting down on nothing as well.

There was one terrifying exception to what he saw. Directly in front of Empristos' soul where his body would have been and where he expected to see an outline in place of Marcus was a void that towered and blocked out everything behind it; the void seemed to bulge and pulse in ways that should not be possible in three dimensions. An arm in an incomprehensible shade of black extended from the void and encircled Empristos in a grip that felt like death.

It pulled Empristos forward and downwards with a sharp jolt. Suddenly feeling returned to Empristos in a way that felt like belly flopping into cold water. He was suddenly aware of having a body and he sat upright suddenly, an overload of senses screaming at him. It took a moment for his mind to settle back in and sort out the involuntary from voluntary actions and similar things. He looked up and saw Marcus crouching in front of him.

"That void," Marcus said sharply, "Where did you see it before?"

"What do you mean?" asked Empristos, shock evident on his face.

"When you first became able to mess around with fire like that. What did you see?" Marcus clarified.

Memories flooded back into Empristos' mind. He was a small kid around nine years old in a small village in the mountains of Greece, entertaining himself by tossing rocks at bigger rocks when one cracked open with a thunderous boom. The next thing he could remember was lying on his back but the sight of the void unlocked a previously locked memory. From the rock emerged a small trail of smoke.

It clumped together into an orb slightly bigger than his head. Its color grew darker and darker until it reached that incomprehensible shade of black. To say it spoke would not do justice to what happened. Empristos was aware that it was communicating with him but it the manner in a language that sounded impossible to be made by a human voice box. Sounds he never heard before emanated from it. He heard them and then moments later he comprehended them. It told him everything he needed to know about his powers and how the Half Son Army was structured briefly. It finished what it had to say then he felt the power he stumbled on accidently rushing into him, knocking him onto his back.

Once Empristos comprehended his new memories he heard the same language coming from Marcus. Comprehension came a few moments later, "Now will you listen to me?"

"Yeah."

"I need to get to Munich. And apparently I'm supposed to meet you before I do that. Do you have any idea why?" Marcus switched over to English to make it easier for Empristos to keep up.

"None. Who are you anyway?"

"I'm two ranks above you which is why you didn't recognize me."

"Well," Empristos got up and said, trying to come up with an answer, "If you're two ranks above me then knowing who I am and finding me must have been for a reason. But since no one knows anyone more a rank below them, with this case being an exception, I guess that we'd have to go to someone who I know in Munich."

"Sounds about right. Can you get us across the border?"

"Yeah, I'll just drop by someone who owes me a favor. And we should get out of here before the police arrives."

"Good point," said Marcus, noticing for the first time to extent of the destruction around them and the wailing sirens in the distance.

"He's this way," Empristos said as he headed down the street, Marcus following right behind him. The ruckus the two had caused in their scuffle was enough to wake up everyone in the surrounding streets. The citizens of Rotterdam filled the street dressed in whatever they could find and put on quickly. Marcus and Empristos pushed through the crowd, trying to get through it as quickly as possible.

A few hours ago on the other side of the city in the base of the anarchists a call came in telling them that the one they're looking for arrived. The leader of the movement leapt at the call, sensing that the method to his goal was within his reach. He talked with the one on the phone, getting his location from him. The leader yelled told the rather generous stranger who appeared earlier.

"We found him," said the leader then told him the exact location. Zeus focused for a moment and an eagle burst into life above the building. It flapped its wings, getting its bearing then, with a powerful flap climbed into the air. The bird flew up into the sky where it was used to flying then headed out to Marcus' location. From high up in the sky it saw the demi-god sitting in the café, keeping an eye on the opposite side of the square.

Zeus saw the scene through the eyes of the bird of prey. Even through his vessel he was able to feel Marcus' presence. He extinguished the eagle with a thought, leaving only a fine golden dust to float down. Zeus got up from where he was sitting and reached into the pocket of his pinstriped suit. The anarchist leader watched him pull out a small keychain.

"Go to the warehouses. In the first building you'll find an army waiting for you. Everything else you'll need will in the next two buildings." Zeus dropped the keys in the leader's hands.

"An army eh," the leader smiled at Zeus' back as the deity walked towards the door. "Sounds like you really do care about our cause."

"Just make sure he's dead," Zeus said with a sigh. He stepped out into the shabby neighborhood. Once he was a few steps away he gathered himself and in a flash of golden light was seated on his throne on Mount Olympus in New York. Zeus settled back into his seat a satisfied look in his face. The anarchists were by no means an organized army but the resources he put at their disposal were powerful enough to take care of Jason and Percy working together.

Back in Rotterdam the leader of the anarchists eagerly got the attention of the admittedly small group assembled in front of him. He explained to them what their benefactor told him and they jumped eagerly at the change to seriously change the system they were rebelling against. They all made their way to the warehouses, leaving small acts of vandalism in their wake.

At the warehouses they were greeted by a bored night watchman at the booth. He made just past minimum wage so he wasn't inclined to argue with the rowdy bunch since they had a genuine key with them. He waved them in and pointed them towards the warehouses they were looking for. They ran in, brimming with anticipation.

The leader followed them, a satisfied smile on his lips. He swaggered up to the large lock on the door, relishing the moment. It clicked open and the chains fell to the ground. The large group pulled open the door with a heave.

"Took you long enough to get here," a man smoking a cigarette was standing just inside the door, evidently waiting. "Come on! Doors are open," he yelled out to the dimly lit interior of the warehouse. The darkness seemed to shift as half hidden figures seemed to wake up and sounds of metal clacking against metal. The sounds of engines waking up inside the warehouse came from within, accompanied with the bright flash of headlights.

Large trucks and armored vehicles started rolling out of the warehouse, men with various firearms crammed into every inch of them. They all looked different and came from different places. Zeus did not want to take any chances; he scrounges the very worst places of the world to find combatants. From the jungles of Central Africa he brought power hungry warlords and their soldiers; from the coast of Somalia he brought entire pirate crews; from maximum security prisons around the world he brought mass murderers and the like; from the mountains between Pakistan and Afghanistan he brought anyone with a shred of experience with an AK-47; and from around the world he brought dishonorable discharges – people who joined the army to have a chance to kill people.

All of these people he equipped with a generous amount of weaponry much larger than the ones he gave the anarchists. Asides from the trucks and armored cars he gave them more weapons and ammunition than they've seen in their life, crates of firearms and explosives and mountains of bullets in addition to mortars and heavy artillery. The three warehouses were emptied out pretty quickly and with practiced skill by the army recruited by the god of the sky.

"Where's the target?" asked the same man who the anarchists first heard from.

The old man started to grasp the size of the operation and the seriousness of what could happen. He was slightly shaken by what he understood. "Why do you need all of those?" he asked, pointing at the cannons on trailers behind the trucks.

"Because he have a job to do," the man answered, his very small well of patience drying up pretty quickly. "Where is he?" he asked again forcefully. The very first explosive blast that Empristos used during his conflict with Marcus leapt into the sky at that moment. As one the assembled mercenaries turned towards it, just the sound of it was enough to draw their attention. "That must be where he is," yelled the man, immediately forgetting about the anarchists. "Let's go before he moves!" The man walked over to the vehicle at the front of the group and got in beside the driver.

The caravan started rolling. The gate onto the street was no problem for them; the lead car crashed through the wooden arm and someone in the later cars put a bullet through the heads of the guards who saw them. They got on the street and headed into the city towards the blast from Marcus and Empristos' clash. The several blasts that came after the first helped the group keep track of their target's location.

When they got nearer to their destination the caravan split up to cover as much distant as possible. They all came to the mutual agreement that whoever found Marcus would shoot on sight and then they'd converge on him. The lead truck was the first to reach the same street as Marcus.

Marcus put his hand on Empristos' shoulder and turned him around. He gave him a puzzled look which was answered by Marcus pointing towards the truck that stuck out like a sore thumb. Empristos was about to say something but he was cut short by the heavily armed men that spilled out of the back of the truck and aimed at them.

Before he could say anything Empristos found himself being pushed down into an alley by Marcus, narrow dodging a hail of bullets. "Who are those?" he asked Marcus incredulously.

"No idea but I don't think they're very friendly."

"Should we make a run for it?"

Marcus' eyes glowed behind their sunglasses. "Nah, there's a lot more of them and they're circling us right now. If we want to get out we'll have to fight our way out of here."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Empristos said. He waited for a break in the gunfire then burst out from the alley, right into one of the mercenaries who was about to enter the alley. Empristos reacted faster; he reached out, grabbed the mercenary arms and burst into flames. The force of the fire incinerated the mercenary, reducing him to a small pile of ash, a gun and a few extra magazines on the ground.

Empristos kept the flames up and shot a few fireballs at the unlucky few who were not behind cover. He crouched down behind a SUV as a hail of gunfire flew inches above his head. Marcus waited for a break in the shooting and then took cover besides Empristos. "Which way do we go?" Empristos asked.

Marcus' eyes glowed behind the lens of his sunglasses. A map of the city appeared before him with everyone that wanted them dead marked out in red. Unfortunately for them most of the map was colored red. "That way." Marcus pointed down the street towards even more armed mercenaries.

Empristos took a quick look in that direction. "Is there any other way that we could go that wouldn't involve us turning into sheets of chicken wire?"

"None," Marcus answered with a shake of his head. Something underneath the side walk caught his eye. "Although there may be two ways for us out of here."

"Oh well please share them."

"Well the city still runs natural gas through pipes. It wouldn't be difficult to blow that up."

"But that would kill a lot of bystanders."

"And?"

"That's unnecessarily cruel."

"My name literally means unnecessary cruelty in some languages of some worlds."

"How about we try and avoid that. You mentioned another way."

"Well it might work but it might kill you."

"No problem let's try it." Empristos answered without missing a beat.

"Suit yourself." Marcus held his hand out in front of him, a black mist playing at the tips of his fingers. He focused for a moment and with a slight movement of his hand created a tear into a dimension that most physicists weren't aware they weren't aware of the possibility of its existence. "Don't ask because even I'm not sure how that works." Marcus said to answer Empristos' unasked question. "Give me your arm."

Empristos did as he was told and Marcus gripped his forearm tightly. "Hang on this will hurt and probably a lot." Before Empristos could protest Marcus reached into the rip that he made and grabbed onto nothing. Immediately they something pulling them forward and upwards. The sudden jolt caused Empristos to black out. Marcus was used it and was able to pull them around to one of the clusters of light that was Munich.

Marcus began to pull them down from however high up they were into a quiet alleyway close to the center of the city. Slowing down to a speed that wouldn't kill them brought with it another jolt that woke Empristos back up. The sight of the ground approaching way too fast made him yell out something but the wind tore the words away from his mouth.

They hit the ground with a bit of a speed, not enough to hurt them but enough to smack the soles of their feet and to make an unprepared Empristos stumble. "What the hell was that?" He yelled at Marcus once he got his balance and breath back.

"You know how the Earth is rotating?"

"Yeah."

"And it's spinning around the Sun,"

"Yeah."

"And both of them are moving through space."

"Yeah."

"Well basically I held us in place and let everything else move around us."

Empristos stared back at him.

"It's actually one of the easier party tricks that I can do. And anyone we're in Munich now."

Empristos shrugged off the casual display of power. "So what are we doing here in Munich?" He asked as he dusted himself off.

"Well I think I'm supposed to meet someone here. So, who do you now that's one of us and is here?" Marcus answered.

Empristos furrowed his brow as he thought back. He hadn't had the need to find anyone and he was glad since meeting anyone else from his army meant that something bad was about to happen; Marcus' very presence was something whose fear hadn't set in fully for Empristos. "Doctor Ludwig Recht." The image of the man came into Empristos' mind. "Apparently he's our medic."

"Apparently?"

"Don't ask how I know that."

"I had thought that's something that only happened to me." Marcus turned and headed out into the street. "Well we're in luck."

"How so?" Empristos stood beside Marcus in front of a list of occupants of the building they were looking at.

"Dr. Ludwig Rechts Privatpraxis für Neurochirurgie und Kardiothorakale Chirurgie." Marcus answered, reading a small card.

"And?"

"That says Dr. Ludwig's Recht's Private Practice for Neurosurgery and Cardiothoracic Surgery." Marcus pushed open the door. "We've managed to find the right place."

"You speak German?" Empristos asked as they walked across the lobby.

"More like I understand abstract concepts and their representations. Basically I can understand everything as long as it wasn't intended to be gibberish. And I picked up a lot of language as I jumped around."

"Seems like a useful skill."

"It has its uses." Marcus said with a shrug then knocked on the door they wanted.


	4. Munich

**Munich**

Doctor Ludwig Recht was in his study going over his latest cases when he heard the knock on the door. "Probably someone at the wrong door." He thought to himself as he got up and walked through the empty waiting room to the door. "Ja?" He asked when he opened the door.

Ludwig blinked once at the sight of the two men in front of him then once again when the memory of who Empristos was came rushing in his mind. When a similar thing did not happen with Marcus he felt a slight chill down his spine. The only time he didn't recognize the person with someone like him and Empristos ended up with half a city razed to the ground.

"Wer bist du zwei?" He snapped at the two. Behind him he used his own powers to raise one of the heavier pieces of equipment into the air in case he needed to throw something at them. "He's asking who we are" Marcus translated for Empristos. "This is Marcus. He's someone further up the food chain, Dr. Recht." Empristos answered. "Then why don't I know who he is?" "Because I'm three steps above Empristos here." Marcus said in reply. "Now won't you let us in? It's rather rude to leave guests waiting in the door." Marcus' eyes glowed behind his sunglasses as he scanned the apartment. "And put that down Doctor. We aren't here for a fight." The comment caught Ludwig off guard and he let it fall to the ground with a loud and expensive crunch of machinery. "Well then, no use discussing this on the doorstep. Come in." Ludwig held the door open for them. The two walked in, Marcus shutting the door behind them as he went in. "I hope you don't mind if we talk in my office." "I'm used to roughing it." Was Empristos' answer. Even without needing to use his power Marcus could tell that the surgeon did not trust him. "I'd love to see what you have in store for me doctor." "I don't know what you mean." Ludwig said as he opened the door to his office and turned on the light, hiding his intention well. He took his seat behind his desk and focused on Marcus' heart inside his chest as the guests took their place opposite him. With a gesture of the hand hidden underneath his desk a beating human heart appeared in Ludwig's other hand, without noticing the bemused look on Marcus' face. "Now then Mr. Marcus," Ludwig said coldly. "This here is your heart. If you do not tell me who you really are right now I will not hesitate to sever the ties between it and your body." "Well like I had told you before," Marcus said calmly, sitting back in his seat. "Just as Empristos here is a step above you in the army's chain of command I'm significantly above him. And that is why you don't recognize me." Ludwig was not convinced and his whitening knuckles around Marcus' heart seemed to agree with that. "Well maybe this will convince you otherwise." Marcus pointed at his heart. Instead of being a dark and bloody red it had changed shape into a black that reminded Ludwig of when he had gotten his powers. However he was not convinced and he squeezed his hand around it. "I do not believe you." "You asked for this." Marcus replied. His heart dissolved into a mist of the same color, letting the surgeon's hand collapse into a fist. Before the doctor could respond the mist grew until it filled what the room the doctor had formed to pull Marcus' heart out without immediately killing him in and then broke free. It swelled in size once more and flew up his arm to surround his head then bash it against the desk until blood started flowing from Ludwig's nose. Once that was achieved it propped him back up in his seat and crawled into him through his mouth and nose, down his windpipe and into his lungs coating them from the inside, effectively choking him from him by preventing oxygen from getting into his bloodstream. "What the hell Marcus!" Empristos yelled. "He didn't believe me." Marcus answered simply. "This should make him a bit more willing to accept the truth." Marcus looked over at the slowly turning blue and violently wheezing man hunched over the desk. "Is it working doctor?" Ludwig looked up at him and nodded several time quickly, his hands clutching at his chest. Marcus nodded with a satisfied look on his face and allowed the mist to disappear from the man's lungs. "How," the doctor began. "Did you do that?" Ludwig reached for a tissue and held it gingerly against his nose to stop the blood from dripping onto the mahogany top of his desk. "I'm a Half-Son like the two of you. Well almost like you two if we're being a bit more accurate." In the same way that he took out Marcus' heart Dr. Recht detached his face from his face and held it in the air in front of him. "So what brings you two to me?" The surgeon said as he began rearranging his nose. "I don't think this was for the sake of a pleasant visit." "Well I was hoping you could tell us that Doctor," Marcus said. "I was told to head to Rotterdam, where I met Empristos, and then to head to Munich, which meant you. So I assume that means that you should have something to share with me." "Well I just might have something." Ludwig reattached his nose and wiped the blood off of it gently. "Whenever any of the Half-Sons came to visit me their stories had something in common. They all mentioned that they would find themselves in a state where they would find themselves moving faster than normal, hitting harder, and taking more hits than they normally could. I had chalked it up to the usual case of adrenaline until I was in a fight of a certain magnitude while I was on a trip somewhere. I know normal adrenaline and I can tell you that that wasn't adrenaline in my veins. So I started looking into it a bit more, eventually I found that once a Half-Son enters a state of fight instead of flight a hormone, the Trafalgar Hormone as I called it, spontaneously appears. Now that I think about it the hormone was the same color as that mist you made Marcus. I suppose it explains where it comes from now that I think about it. Either way this hormone is what gives us Half-Sons our strength." "It seems like this is something that you'd be looking for isn't it?" Empristos said to Marcus. "Yes it does." Marcus answered. "What else did you find about that hormone?" "I've managed to recreate it to a certain degree." "What do you mean a certain degree?" "Well it's extremely dilute in all the samples I could find. I can't accurately recreate it with how little I have access to." "I could get you a much more concentrated sample." "How is that Marcus?" "Take some of mine. I'd think I'd have a much higher concentration of the stuff." "Interesting." Ludwig leaned across the table. "May I?" Marcus laid his arm on the table. "Go ahead." With the skill of someone who did it may times before Dr. Recht pulled out a decent sample of Marcus' blood. "Well you're certainly right. This has a significant concentration of the Trafalgar Hormone. I should be able to make an artificial replacement for it. Or at the very least create a trigger for it." "Sounds good. Can you do anything with what you know now?" The doctor shook his head. "Well then I should be going now." Marcus said as he stood up. "Where're we off to next?" asked Empristos as he got up back. "Not 'we' Empristos. Here's where we part ways." "Why?" "I already have a rough idea as to who I'm meeting in the next place I'm going so I don't think you're meant to stick around with me for this next leg of the journey." "Oh. Well good luck to you to then." "Yes, good luck, Marcus," added Ludwig. "It's been nice meeting you. Although given the implication of out meeting I hope we never meet again." Marcus laughed. "It's too late for that doctor. I'll be seeing you two and the rest of our cousins relatively soon." A chill settled on the Greek and the German, meeting another Half-Son was a dangerous omen so by that logic meeting the rest of the family was an effective death sentence. "Oh, and Ludwig." "Yes?" "Once you make the trigger for the hormone or whatever it is you'll do make three other samples that would overdose an elephant." "Why?" "Because if my hunch is correct then those might be needed. And let's hope that I'm wrong." Seeing that neither of them had anything to add to that Marcus headed back out through the office and onto the street. The sun was beginning to rise over the city and a few people were out on the street, going about their day. From there Marcus began his journey back to the United States. Through a mix of hitchhiking and lying Marcus reached Monaco. Once there he intimidated and extorted enough money out of the right person to be able make off with a small sailboat with enough food to get him to the other side of the Atlantic. He slipped out of the harbor and headed West, skipping one of the two places hidden by the Mist in the Mediterranean and landed on the other to meet a close relative of his whose lineage was altered to suit the agendas of the current deities on Mount Olympus. The journey across the sea was mostly uneventful; Marcus stopped counting how many miles he had crossed long ago and further before that he stopped trying to remember how many different ships he had captained. He had hidden his celestial aura during the trip to avoid attracting attention from unwanted sea dwellers but it didn't stop some of them from showing up in his way. He usually sailed around them since they weren't likely to hide themselves but as he was sailing North outside the United States' marine borders he caught up Typhon. The thought of sailing around him meant adding a few more weeks to his Marcus and he had been craving something that wasn't made of fish. It was possible for Marcus to fly over to the mainland or use the same trick from Rotterdam but the biggest source for increasing a Half-Son's power was travel and Marcus made a conscious effort to take the slightly longer route when given a choice. With a sigh Marcus climbed to the top of the mast and cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to Typhon by name. The Father of All Monster had grown accustomed to silence or screams of agony from his time in Tartarus so this was enough for him to glance behind at him at the source of the sound. Marcus yelled out again. "Get the hell out of the way. I have places to go." Typhon located the small speck behind him that called out to him. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice booming across the sea, spooking animals and people on both sides of the ocean. "Someone that wants you to get out of the way," Marcus yelled back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small hilt that served as his weapon. "Will you move or do I have to move you?" Typhon found the exchange amusing the same way that an ant walking on a person's finger is found to be amusing. He turned around to face Marcus and show his true form, the same one that the Olympians fled at the sight of. "Really?" Marcus answered unfazed. "I've seen worse." A small part of Typhon's mind registered that something that could see him without any sign of fear was something of equal or greater power to him and should be approached with caution but the rest of his brain was filled with rage at the figures insolence. The monster raised one arm and brought down a fist the size of several city blocks sweeping downwards towards the relatively tiny boat. From his place balancing with one foot on the top of the swaying mast Marcus was the first thing the Typhon's hand came into contact with. Instead of being turned into a mess of blood, bone and wood along with the boat he was on Marcus caught the incoming strike with one hand. "Now will you move?" Marcus' main concern was keeping a low profile on his approach to Camp Half-Blood which would explain the olive branch he offered. Typhon roared with rage, causing volcanoes to blow their tops everywhere around the globe and under countless seas. He pulled his fist back and spread his wings. With two strong flaps that ruined the days of millions of seaside visitors everywhere the monster climbed up into the sky, his snake like legs lifting out of the waves as he climbed higher and higher. Marcus followed him upwards manipulating the wind to shoot upwards into the sky faster than the monster. At the same time Marcus let himself grow bigger and bigger until he was half of Typhon's size and hovering in front of him. A look of terror flashed across Typhon's terrifying face and he pulled back from the up-sized Marcus. A cruel smile on his face, Marcus snapped his hand forward and grabbed Typhon by the shoulder and held him in place with a grip tighter than the chains that held Tartarus in place with his left while he drew his right hand back with the hilt that had grew in size along with him held firmly in inside his fist. Something black sprang out of where the blade would be and spread along Marcus' hand while the jumped and held itself against his forearm. Together they formed a gauntlet made of something almost as hard as Marcus' cruelty and just as deadly. Marcus plunged his fist into the monsters face once, twice, thrice. By the second time Typhon had gone limp and was held up only by Marcus' goodwill. Marcus gave him a few more strikes for good measure before lowering the unconscious creature into the sea. He dusted his hands as he shrank back to his normal size and let the gauntlet undo itself back into its normal form. Marcus wiped a few spots of ichor off of it and slipped it back into his pocket. He took his place at the rudder once more and sailed on as if nothing happened. A few days later he reached Long Island, a few minutes' walk away from the border of Camp Half-Blood. Once on dry land he pushed his boat back into open water and began heading through the twilight towards the rest of the demi-gods. 


	5. Jason and Thalia

Night had fallen over the camp an hour or so before Marcus made landfall on Long Island. It wasn't very difficult to find in the twilight because of his new vision. Even without it the large concentration of the Mist in one part made it easy to find it. The barrier around the camp posed only a small challenge for Marcus.

What it would do was constantly move everything inside the camp around a certain area and out of the way of anyone who would accidently stumble across it. As for those who were looking for the camp but did not belong on the inside of the camp's boundaries would find themselves stuck behind a magically reinforced and effectively invisible stone wall that would move around to block their access for the intruder.

Unfortunately for the barrier Marcus had encountered these types of barriers often and recently. Getting past the wall was a simple matter of very complicated cryptography to a certain extent to figure out how the barrier was set up and then a matter of even trickier and more powerful magic to slip past it. The real challenge would be to put back the barrier in the same way it was set up to avoid raising suspicion that someone had gotten through. The borderline impossible task was taking down only a small part for only a few seconds, slipping through then putting it back; which is what Marcus did.

Marcus entered the camp somewhere just outside of the forest where a rather heated match of capture the flag was on going. He was about to wander somewhere where he could run into anyone when he saw a small reddish blur flying towards him. The blur slowed down into a small and skinny harpy that landed just in front of him. Ella stood up taller than normal and looked up at Marcus with eyes that looked like burnt out lumps of coals.

"Just as Brutus and Annabel did you will usurp the throne on this world. If the Lion can be unleashed then he will serve as a suitable king. If he cannot be saved then so be it. Go to the Coliseum then summon the Half-Son Army at the Mountain," Ella said in a voice that was unnaturally deep and powerful for someone with her frame.

"Another coup? That's the third in five worlds." Ella did not respond. "Well does the current pantheon have to stay in one piece?"

"Do as you wish." Ella answered. The blackness drained from her eyes and she slumped down to the ground in an untidy heap of red feathers. She began to get up slowly and looked around her, wondering how she ended up here. The harpy looked up at Marcus and tried to ask the stranger to the camp how he got in.

Instead she found herself gasping for breath after a sharp kick to the chest that had her sent tumbling a few yards back. Marcus strolled over to her pulling out his hilt and letting the darkness inside it pour out into a long knife with an unnecessarily sharp tip. Ella ended up face down and scrambling to get back up.

Marcus had disposed over many leaders ranging from gods to clan leaders to CEOs. Whenever one of them based his position of power on his strength and took pride in that the easiest way to weaken them was to hurt those around them to bait them out of his hiding and then beat them until they lost all semblance of power that they held.

Since there was a harpy not in chains in the camp it was likely a friend and since it was a friend then hurting her should serve to bring Zeus down to the camp was what Marcus had arrived at. With that decision reached Marcus pressed his boot down against Ella, holding her place. He leaned down and with two clean but bloody stroke hamstrung her; rendering her legs useless.

Ella screamed quite loudly, bringing the attention of every living thing in the forest back towards her. Marcus took his foot up off of her back and picked her up by the scruff of her neck, bring her face up to his. "Fly off and get one of Zeus' kids to come over here. Understand me?" Ella nodded quickly, tears. "Good. And don't worry about your legs, I know someone who can put them back together." There was no need to hurt someone too out of the way.

Ella looked at him strangely to which Marcus responded with a sigh and tossed her into the air. The harpy began flapping her wings and gave Marcus one last look before heading off to Chiron to get his attention. Once the centaur heard of the intruder in the Camp and what he did to one of their Oracles he immediately called off the match. He sent the younger campers and Hunters of Artemis back to the Big House. The older ones hurried back to get their gear and then assembled behind Jason, Thalia, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper with Leo being nowhere to be found.

They all found Marcus sitting on a boulder where Ella told them he would be, spinning his hilt between his fingers. Marcus looked up at the approaching campers. "Zeus has been busy these past few years," Marcus commented idly as he got up and walked towards them.

"What?" Asked Percy.

"You're all Zeus' kids right?"

"No we're not."

"Then which ones of you are?"

Percy pointed towards Jason and Thalia and some conversation broke out between the campers. This wasn't the threat that they were expecting, and he didn't seem like the kind to hamstring a harpy. "Can you guys call Zeus down? I need to talk to him." Marcus said.

"Why do you want to talk to him?" Jason asked, lowering his sword.

"Even if we wanted to," Thalia broke into the conversation. "He doesn't always listen and visits us even less."

"Well that's a bit unfortunate." Marcus slipped the hilt into the loop of his belt behind him. He tapped it once to make sure that it was held in place then reached out, grabbed the front of Jason's shirt and tossed him over his shoulder. With Jason where he wanted him, Marcus grabbed Thalia's hood and threw her besides her brother.

By then the rest of campers had realized what happened and reacted accordingly. Percy was closest to Marcus and raised his sword above his head to attack the stranger. As the bronze sword began to arc down Marcus stepped out of the way and rapped Percy's chest firmly, knocking the wind out of him then without missing a beat reached up, grabbed a fistful of black hair and forced Percy's head down to meet his rising knee. The two met with a firm crack that broke something in the sea god's son's face.

Marcus jumped back and whistled loudly. Black smoke poured off of Marcus and swirled together to form a large group of that looked like a Hellhound but was much larger and angrier. These pounced towards the rest of the campers and hidden Hunters, forcing them back out of the forest and towards the Big House where they surrounded all the inhabitants of the camp, demi-gods and otherwise.

"What was that?" Jason yelled as he scrambled back up to his feet, his sword in hand.

"Is Zeus still as proud as ever?" Marcus asked as he turned to the brother and sister.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"So that's a yes." Marcus began walking towards them. "See I'd like to meet him and since he's still the prideful ass that he is beating his children to a pulp should be enough to bring him down here. You two seem like decent people so I'm just going to say that this isn't personal."

"Oh because that's very comforting," Thalia said and loosed an arrow at Marcus' head. Without blinking Marcus plucked the arrow out of the air and flicked it back to land a few inches to the right of the Hunter's head where it punched a hole several inches wide in the bark of the tree.

"Thalia get back and try and get help." The air began to taste of ozone. "I'll hold him off." She nodded and hurried off into the forest.

"I'd like to see you try," Marcus answered. A clap of thunder burst over the Camp and a bolt of lightning arced down and struck Marcus squarely on his head and blackened the entire courtyard. "You'll have to try better than that." Marcus stood where he was a few seconds before. He held his arms wide open, toying with the other demi-god. "Take another shot at me."

Jason seemed to hesitate and took half a step back. "Oh c'mon." Marcus yelled. "If I can tank something like that then if I wanted to kill you I'd have done it before now." Jason gritted his teeth and steeled his nerves. A sharp wind picked up and clouds began to whirl above the two. Further up in Olympus the gods were seated and watching, one eye on the fight and the other on the god of lighting.

Zeus said nothing but silently aided his son's effort. Jason felt his father's presence behind him and felt his strength growing. Zeus' aid to Jason was felt by Marcus and he looked up at the sky and smiled a playful smile. He struck a nerve. The smile on Marcus' face drove Jason over the edge and he pulled down the strongest bolt he ever summoned. The entire sky lit up brighter than the brightest day and dead leaves caught fire from the heat of the bolt.

The bolt arced down and collided with Marcus' palm raised above his head. The light and heat was too much for Jason to handle, his vision went black and his shirt was scorched and blackened with soot. Slowly his vision came back while the air cooled down to an uncomfortable but not blistering heat while he swayed on his feet, drained by the effort.

Marcus stood in the exact same position before, this time with one hand behind his back. "H-how?" Jason managed to make out.

With a cruel smile on his lips Marcus revealed the hand that was behind his back. The lightning bolt arced and burst in between his fingers. "Run." Marcus ordered. To Jason's credit he stood his ground and raised his sword at Marcus. All he got for that was the same bolt he shot at Marcus thrown at him, it caught him square in his chest and flung him back than should be possible. Zeus' watching eye over his son was the only thing that ensured he did not break any limbs in his flight or landing. In the end Jason came to a gentle stop on the grass in front of Zeus' Fist, gasping for breath and close to collapsing from exhaustion.

"Help him," Zeus said to Apollo and Ares. They did not hesitate and Jason found himself blood-lusted and ready to fight once more.

"You just don't know when to stop don't you?" Marcus said as he slipped out of a nearby shadow.

"Not against someone like you, no," Jason said as he got up to his feet.

"Well it's been nice talking to you but I think I can get a better reaction from your sister." Marcus' figure turned into a blur as he closed the distance between himself and Jason. He backhanded the demigod and sent him flying. Another blur put him head of the involuntarily flying blond who he brought to a painful and abrupt stop before setting him up to use his head as a speed bag.

The blessing of the two gods was the only thing holding Jason together at that point and what allowed him to slip out of the battering Marcus was applying rather generously. "Don't pull your punches." Jason said, the blood-lust from Ares and the pride he inherited from his father keeping him going.

"What?" Marcus wasn't certain he heard that right.

"I can tell you're going easy on me." Jason was right, Marcus wasn't going all out. "Don't do that."

"Well I can either not pull my punches or not go easy on you." Marcus said. "Pick one."

"Both."

"Well I don't need to kill you so I won't do that. But since you insist." When Marcus moved once more the blur didn't show up; he borderline teleported to Jason. Marcus brought his foot up and pistoned it down, once on the inside of Jason's right knee, and the second on the left knee, breaking them and bringing him down to his knees. Marcus pushed his knee against Jason's sternum, shattering it and breaking all of his ribs, sending fragments of bone into the rest of his chest. The one standing pulled it standing and kicked the other one's stomach sending him flying back, breaking his back against the rock.

There was still some fight left in him. "You're still holding back."

"I'm surprised you could tell." Marcus strolled over to Jason and pulled him up to his feet, leaning him against the rock. A right jab came out of nowhere and the giant pile of rocks fell apart, some of them flying like they were shot from a battleship's cannon and the ones that didn't fly off fell apart into lots of much smaller rocks that rolled away slowly.

Jason steadied himself by putting on his hand on Marcus' shoulder. Marcus looked at him curiously to see if the Roman wanted to stand down. Instead Jason sent a weak pulse of static electricity through Marcus. It wasn't much but it meant that he wasn't going doing yet.

Marcus had to admire Jason's strength and resolution to not give up. Of course he didn't let it show. Instead he looked at him and let his godly half shine through. A golden glow burst out from behind Marcus' sunglasses and the force of it knocked Ares' blessing out of Jason. Marcus had timed it so that Apollo's blessing would keep Jason alive; this would make his defeat a humiliation instead of making him a martyr and the show of mercy might come back in his favor if he needed to sway the demigods over to his side. Without Are's blessing all the fight went out of Jason and he slumped down.

The Hunter was the next person that needed to be taken care of. Marcus turned around to look at the forest, his eyesight boosted enough for him to see exactly where every single living thing in the forest was. Most of them were either up in the trees or hiding inside the barks from something they understood to be very powerful. The only exceptions were two beings, one much bigger than the other human sized one, underground and another one on the ground slightly to Marcus' right. Marcus eased up on his vision, just enough to see keep an eye on his next target.

Thalia had set up a place for herself where the two were fighting before they moved. She had made her way over as fast as she could but she made it just in time to see Marcus blow away Zeus' Fist. Thalia pulled out her bow and drew an arrowed trained on Marcus' back when she felt his strength reach her. Her arms trembled and her heart began to pound in her chest.

Artemis up in Mount Olympus felt Thalia's worry and extended her blessing to the Hunter. The girl calmed down in the presence of the goddess's blessing and drew her bow again. She felt her bow snap to her target and she was able to draw it further than she ever could. Artemis' blessing also gave let her sense Marcus' presence from afar, letting her keep track of where he was better than with her eyesight only.

Marcus began walking towards the Hunter. It came to him that the best way to deal with this one was to beat her at her own game. Black smoke gushed out of his palms and solidified into a long black rope that he began tying into a noose.

Thalia steadied her breath and loosed the arrow. It seemed to her that Marcus must have felt it because his figure disappeared from its place and appeared somewhere else much closer to her. "He must've shadow-travelled." She thought to herself as a small breeze picked up around her. She drew another arrow and shot it at him. This time it struck him in the chest. Without waiting for him to fall over she shot another two.

"Good shot Hunter." Marcus said from behind Thalia. He shadow travelled behind her and created a decoy that was too good for her doubt while he quickly set up his trap. "But it was the wrong target." Thalia found herself choked by the noose Marcus had slipped around her neck. She dropped her bow and her hands instinctively went to her neck, trying to loosen the vice like grip on her windpipe. The rest of the rope went up to a branch and looped back down to the ground. Marcus tugged on the rope, lifting the Hunter up off her feet that kicked uselessly in the air.

Marcus pulled her along the branch and lifted her only slightly. This eased the pressure off the rope and allowed to take a strained breath of cold air. "Can you breathe?" Thalia answered it with a swift kick to the side of Marcus' ribs. Her foot bounced off without harming him and he took that as a yes. Still holding her against the bark of the tree Marcus held his hand above the ground and focused on pulling something out of it.

Two obsidian spikes, each about six inches long and half an inch wide, moved through the soil and jumped up into his free hand. He took each one and stabbed it through the Hunter's arm between the elbow and the shoulder. Thalia screamed as pain burned through her. Marcus stepped back from her, the spikes wouldn't kill her and they held her just high enough for the noose not to strangle her.

Now all he had to do was find "the Lion" that the prophecy had mentioned.


	6. Zeus

"Which one here is the Lion?" Marcus' voice boomed across the crowd of demigods standing in place in front of the Big House and held there by whatever kind of hounds Marcus had summoned. A ripple of murmurs spread throughout the group but no one stepped forward or would have pointed out Leo Valdez if he was with them.

"Why should we tell you?" Percy yelled back at the approaching figure. A hound snapped at him and he sliced his sword across its face. The hound's face briefly turned to smoke to let Riptide pass through it. The hound made to bite at Percy but at a thought from Marcus it stepped back and let him step forward.

"Because two of your friends are at death's door back there." Marcus jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "And I don't mind doing the same to the rest of you until I get an answer. Now will you answer my question or will I have to get the answer out of you? And trust me it'll hurt you way more than it will hurt me."

"What did you do to them?" Percy asked, holding Riptide at the ready beside him.

Marcus noticed the sword without worry. "One of them is only alive thanks to the personal attention of Apollo and the other will bleed out soon." Fury overtook Percy and he brought his sword up, meaning to tear open a wound from hip to shoulder. Instead a hound rose up from the ground and leapt onto him, pinning him to the ground and knocking his sword out of his hand.

Marcus picked up the weapon and looked over it curiously, recognizing the metal it was made of. He whistled and the hound disappeared. Percy scrambled up to his feet. "Your father did well by me," Marcus said as he handed Riptide back to Percy. "I don't want to fight you if I don't have to." That much was true; knocking Zeus off the throne would create a power vacuum and Poseidon and Hades were the most likely to take his place if the Lion didn't show up. "The sooner you tell me whoever the Lion is the sooner you can get to your friends and I get out of here."

"I'm never telling you."

"Your choice." Marcus gestured towards him with his hand and a bubble of water formed and started to grow between him and Percy. Percy dropped his sword and clutched at his throat as an overwhelming feeling of thirst overcame him. He felt his arms and legs go numb as he fell, the feeling in his hands and feet already gone as blood stopped pumping to them. As he struggled to draw breath into suddenly stiff and dried out lungs the bubble grew as Marcus pulled almost all the water out of the son of the sea god, leaving just enough for blood to pump into his brain and feel the pain.

One of the hounds barked, getting Marcus' attention as an oddly mechanical roar filled the night sky. The sound of someone yelling "Leo!" from the crowd was what really got his attention. Marcus turned to find a mechanical dragon hovering behind him with a wiry figure atop it. "Are you Leo?" Marcus asked, putting back the water he took out of Percy back in its place with a flick of his fingers.

"Who's asking?" answered the figure on top of the dragon.

"Then you are Leo." Marcus kicked off the ground and flew over to the dragon-rider. "You're coming with me for a ride."

Up in Olympus Hephaestus slammed his fist against the arm of his throne and made to teleport down to help his son. "Stay." Came the order from Zeus. "Ares, Apollo, Artemis." The three he mentioned looked up. "I want that stranger dead." The clouds around Olympus turned an angry and turbulent black and they knew better than to argue with their father when he was in that mood.

Three gold flashes illuminated the pantheon as they went down. The rest of the gods said nothing out loud but communicated between themselves silently, mostly trying to get an idea of what was happening with the exception of Hades and his older brother.

"What's on your mind?" Hades asked.

"I met that stranger before," Poseidon answered. "Something's not right with him."

"What is it?"

"I almost felt like I could remember that same color of his sunglasses. But it's like a memory that was wiped from my mind."

"That isn't possible."

"That's why it's worrying."

"Could he have came here before?"

"I don't think so. Even if he came before and was wiped from my memory the sight of him would have triggered the memory and I'd have remembered."

"When did you meet him?"

"Several months ago on a pier in Boston."

"And you 'Did right by him'?"

"He asked for safe passage across the sea."

"Why didn't you mention it before?"

"I wanted to be sure of what happened."

That conversation happened in a fraction of a second, enough time for the gods to descend to Camp Half-Blood, all of them in their war gear and in their fifteen foot forms. As soon he saw them Leo and Festus sprang away from Marcus and landed next to the rest of the demigods while Marcus floated down to the ground.

"To tell the truth I was expecting your father," Marcus said calmly in greeting.

Artemis answered by shooting an eight foot arrow that burned with the fury of her rage at Marcus who caught it and tossed it to the side where it dissolved into a moon beam. "Your Hunter is still alive."  
"That doesn't take back what you did to her you bastard."

"It wasn't personal or aimed at you," Marcus answered as he pulled out his hilt and let the blade of a long-sword form. "If you feel so strongly about that then there is a simple answer to that." Marcus paused then spoke the next sentence in High Greek, the language that the gods thought and communicated in, a language that only they knew existed. "I challenge you." The twins blinked in shock at the stranger's use of that language and the invocation of a challenge the way the gods settled their disputes with other beings of their kind.

"You say that," Ares answered in the same tongue. "But do you know what that means?" His spear and shield glowing red.

Marcus laughed cruelly. "I created this form child." He walked over to Ares until they were the correct distance away. "Come to your slaughter." Marcus held his sword at the ready, looking up at the armored warrior.

Ares tossed his shield to his half-brother and settled into the proper stance from someone of his size. Ares swung his spear in a vertical strike aimed at Marcus' head. Marcus brought his sword up to block the strike, holding the flat of the far end of the blade against the palm of his hand. Ares' spear bounced off his blade with a loud clang of metal on metal.

Behind the stony concentration on Ares' face was worry; that was a powerful strike that should have broken anything that it came into contact with and that young man's block was from a very advanced stage of the form. Regardless, Ares pulled back his spear and then swung it horizontally across. Marcus ducked underneath it, staying right in his place.

Ares had a sickening feeling that this may be his final strike. He grabbed his spear with both hands at the base and swung it faster than ever in a diagonal slash from right to left. The war god found his hands back the same way and faster than before, his shoulders shuddering from the force of the parry. He saw Marcus coming in for his strikes while he did nothing as the form dictated.

Marcus brought his sword and slashed through Ares' knee, splitting his leg into two. Ichor split everywhere as Ares went down and Marcus let himself grow several feet. Marcus swung his sword once more this time across Ares' armored waist. His sword tore through the celestial bronze like a hot knife through butter and ripped open a gaping golden wound in the god's abdomen, painting his clothes like the sun and drenching the grass in a similar color.

With apathetic cruelty on his face Marcus pulled back his sword and thrust it forward through the parts of Ares' face that were left exposed despite his helmet. The tip of his sword made contact with Are's cheekbone and broke it before the god summoned enough strength to teleport back to Mount Olympus as a broken and bleeding mess.

Marcus turned to the other two. A quick tap into his new power showed him that Artemis glowed much brighter than her brother which likely meant that she was much more powerful and was the bigger threat, especially considering how she felt with what he did to Thalia. Marcus shifted his feet and pulled back his sword. In the same time Artemis began to pull out her bow and a handful of arrows from her quiver.

Marcus threw his sword and by the time Artemis strung her arrows the sword was only a few feet away from her. She drew them back and let them loose just before the sword punched through her chest until the hilt crashed into her ribcage and threw her back. Apollo, one arrow drawn back in his bow, was distracted by what happened to his sister and turned to look at her.

Marcus moved forward and snatched Artemis' arrows out of the air and threw them back at her twin. They peppered his chest harder than if they were shot at him by his sister. Each of them tore through his bronze clad chest and out through his back, leaving gaping and insulting wound where each of them landed.

The two gods flashed gold and brought themselves back up to Mount Olympus where they appeared on the ground in front of the injured god of war. "Get all the campers out of there." Zeus ordered as he got up from his throne. The rest of the pantheon flashed gold as the gods went down to camp and grabbed as many campers they can and spirited them away to a faraway hill.

Marcus saw all this unfold as walked over to his sword, falling back to his usual human shaped size. He picked up his weapon and wiped the golden ichor off the blade with the denim of his pants. "Are you finally going to grace me with your presence?" He yelled up at the thundering sky.

It was as if the sun came up over the camp. The king of gods himself appeared before the intruder to the camp, standing fifty feet tall in his normal pinstriped tie and with his Master Bolt in hand. In Zeus' mind appearing unarmored was a bigger show of strength than appearing in full war regalia since it would show that he didn't need to push himself to take care of this stranger. The Master Bolt was probably overkill but it proved that he was the top dog on this planet, something that he did not mind reaffirming.

"For your crimes against the gods," Zeus began, his booming voice louder than thunder cracking overhead. "You will …" His speech was cut off by a sudden mouthful of trees.

"If you want to kill me don't keep me waiting," Marcus answered, his voice louder than Zeus'. It did not have the same timbre but that was intended by Marcus to make his voice more taunting. "I've kicked bigger ass on my way here." With a wave of his hand he uprooted a second cluster of trees and had them float behind him.

"You dare speak to me li-" This time the trees tangled themselves up in his beard.

"Yes I do." Marcus willing himself up through the air so that he was at eye level with Zeus. "Now are you are you going to hit me with that thing or is it more of a Freudian thing?" There was laughter in his voice as he watched the god push the trees out of his beard.

"Enough!" Zeus yelled as he raised his Master Bolt. Electricity arced between the two ends of the Bolt and the air grew heavy with the taste of ozone. Marcus laughed again, his voice echoing out so that the rest of the gods and the demigods could hear it, then made a rude gesture before holding his arms wide open and dropped his sword.

Zeus threw the Bolt with all his might and it struck Marcus cleanly in the chest. Immediately an explosion ripped through the camp. The blast had occurred 50 feet in the air so nothing was affected by the explosion itself. The shockwave however was much more devastating, nothing was left standing in the camp and their remains were thrown hundreds of feet away. The heat, sound, and light released by the explosion also had an effect on their campers, taking away their sight and hearing for a few minutes and singing their clothes.

Once their senses came back to normal they found Marcus floating in the same place as before, the Master Bolt in his hand and his sword in the other.

"You're nothing but hot air." The Master Bolt started up again and Marcus flicked it at Zeus' stomach. Its explosion was much weaker but enough to make him double over. Marcus flew lazily over to Zeus' face and held his weapon upright. Up till then Marcus had made the edge of the weapon of a much weaker metal, enough to harm the gods but not enough to kill them. The edge of his sword grew darker as the same metal that the blade was made of spread over the edge. Marcus slashed his sword across Zeus' face over his cheekbones and across his nose.

Instead of drawing ichor something pure white leaked out. Marcus struck out at Zeus' very divinity and left a scar that would never heal or fade. The god howled with pain, his hands held to his face and teleported back to his own palace on Olympus where he could lick his wounds in peace.

Marcus' eyes glowed gold as he scanned the nearby area for Leo. He found a cluster of gods waiting around a crowd of demigods of varying powers several miles away. Something about one of the demigods seemed a bit off. Curious, Marcus hid his presence and flew over to the crowd, circling around to get a better look at what drew his curiosity.

Once he could make out the individual demi-gods Marcus understood why the Lion was the one chosen to replace Zeus. Through his new power Marcus could tell that Leo's powers were held back and what their true potential was. Silently Marcus dropped in behind Leo, who was sitting a small distance away from the rest of the demigods and tinkering with his dragon.

"You'll come with me." Marcus said simply, putting his hand on Leo's shoulder.

Before Leo could respond Hephaestus saw Marcus dropping in and yelled out for Marcus to step from Leo at the same as a pillar of white-hot fire exploded around the two. The fire did not affect Marcus. Instead he tightened his grip on Leo's shoulder to stop him from getting away and pulled him though the shadow of a blade of grass.

The two fell out another shadow somewhere untouched by civilization and covered in snow. To his credit Leo was extremely calm. "So you're not going to kill me?" He asked, looking up at Marcus.

"You're the brightest person on this continent." Marcus let go of Leo's shoulder and the demigod turned around to face him.

"I don't think I deserve that. Some of the Athena kids should get that title." Leo said with a small grin, secretly thinking of how he could ever fight off this stranger.

"Yeah well it doesn't matter now. What matters is that you now have a choice. Follow me or I can send you back to the rest of the camp."

"Why would I follow you?"

"Because if you do I may put you in Zeus' place and make you much more powerful than you are right now." Marcus paused. "Or you may be killed in the way."

"Well that's a very tempting offer." It was said sarcastically but Leo considered it seriously. He hit a dead end on the Calypso matter years ago and the oath he took on the Styx was not going anywhere. Being in Zeus' place might give him enough power to fulfill his promise or at least immortality to sidestep it for a few thousand years. And this guy did take out four gods back to back; he could probably get this done.

"Well I'm coming with you."

Marcus was surprised that the demigod didn't ask anything else about him. "Well then let's go," Marcus said and started heading off towards the small town he knew was just behind the trees.

"You have a name that I can call you by?" Leo asked, lighting a small fire to warm his bare arms from the snow.

"Marcus."

"No last name or anything in the middle?"

Marcus thought back to the first 80 years of his life. "First two titles I got gave me a middle and last name. Nar Marcus Kaz Ithrö Urglralgra Angelasson. If you translate that into English you get Marcus "Runs with the Rams" Son of Angela."

"Bit of a mouthful isn't it?"

"I tend to stick with Marcus Ram."

Somewhere in Siberia where even the wildlife refuses was Gaia. Hidden underneath the earth was a heated cell, placed there by someone who came and went from this world as the Titans took power. In that cell was a primordial forgotten by history and without a name. For the goddess of the earth unearthing him was a simple task.

He awoke from his slumber and without a look at his liberator slunk off into the Arctic glaciers coming into existence as he approached the water. Gaia smiled and turned back towards the rest of Asia, the personification of man's terror of the cold had come back from his undignified prison and the rest of the family needed to be awoken.


End file.
